Pas de Trois
by Amberdeengirl
Summary: Edward and Bella were the perfect dance partners at one of the top ballet academies in the World; unstoppable, unbeatable and utterly, beautifully passionate. But after a horrific betrayal she must take a scholarship to the school of Edward's arch rival, Jacob Black. All three must learn that partnerships may change but the past, with all it's passion and secrets, never will. ExB.
1. Chapter 1

Hello!

It is so good to be writing again!

Welcome back all my old readers! Your continued support after completion was amazing! Thank you so much!

To any new readers, welcome!

This is the sequel to 'Clair de Lune'. Whilst it is understandable without reading the first fanfic, I would strongly recommend reading it first!

**Anyways, get ready for a new fanfic of drama, romance, and, of course; DANCE!**

**Please flick me a review, tell me what you think!**

So, without further ado:

**Please review**

**and**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Angels, Memories, Utpoia, Stand My Ground, Frozen - Within Temptation (yes, I write ballet fanfics to Scandinavian Symphonic Heavy Metal)<em>

_Clair de Lune - Claude Debussy (because there is simply no other piece like it)_

* * *

><p>Eight o'clock. Eight o'clock and I was still lying in bed. The sun, every day getting weaker as winter crept in, was shining through a split in my curtains, cutting across my cheek and arm. An arm which was looking less toned by the day...<p>

I frowned at it, then pushed my covers back. My stomach was still flat, my legs still slender. To most, I would have looked like...well, a ballet dancer. But to me...I felt about as dancer-like as a cow. My neck felt stiff, my posture seemed to be lazy and bent, and I would be lucky if my legs could make it _halfway _into the splits. I kicked back my comforter a little further. And there was the problem; my ankle.

It had been two weeks since Tanya Denali, _Force de la Beauté's _ex-prima ballerina, had shoved me from my pointe just as I'd been about to go on stage, and still my ankle was weak. It kept turning over just when I was walking down a street or stepping out of a car. I looked like a klutz. Ballet dancers are _not _meant to look like klutzes. _Tanya doesn't look like a klutz..._

I bit my lip, pushing away the thought, and slowly got up. _But Tanya was a total bitch...there's no reason to worry... _It was true, Edward had chosen me. Though, he hadn't at first. He was my partnering teacher and a senior, but somehow he'd ended up dancing with me in class, and we'd had some sort of a connection...dancing with him was like nothing I'd ever experienced.

But that connection wasn't practical, and Edward had chosen to ignore it. It was only got to New York for an audition for the American_ Ballet _that he realized he would rather have been with me. And so he'd come back...just for me...

And a _very _pissed off Tanya had come too, hell bent on revenge. And that was when she'd pushed me. And that was why I was here, back in Forks with my parents, letting my bones forget their strength and my mind forget its discipline.

I sighed, hobbling over to push my curtains back, letting in the day. God, I missed Madam Esme's six thirty wake up calls. I missed the endless staircases. I missed the long hours and the everlasting barre exercises and the boring Ballet History classes. I missed my friends; Eliza and Violet and Ben and Mike and Alice and Jasper and Emmett and Angela – although she too was still gone after her terrible accident.

I looked out over the forest which my Dad's house lay next to, watching the sunlight glint on the raindrops still hanging from the branches. And I missed Edward. I missed him in a way in which every time I thought about him – which was a lot – I got an empty feeling in the bottom of my stomach. And it was silly...because, realistically, there was going to be a lot of time without him. He couldn't stay in Senior year forever, and I sure as hell couldn't whip out the skill to skip two years and join him.

That was the other problem with my recovery break; it gave me too much time to think about reality. The future. The harsh truths.

I _had _to dance! I was sick of sitting watching life move all around me! I wanted to do what I loved again...because now more than ever, after all my experiences at _Force, _dancing was my passion...it was a part of me. And I wanted to feel that exhilaration again...

I snatched my towel from the floor and hopped my way to the bathroom. My patience was wearing _thin..._

\*\*/*/

When I eventually got myself down to Dad's small but cosy kitchen, Mom was up, shoving a big turkey in the oven. Dad sat at the table, chopping up bits of pumpkin. I smiled from the doorway. At least there was one upside to the whole injury thing; I got see my parents. And better yet, together. All of us in Forks for Thanksgiving. It wasn't a normal thing for Mom and Dad to be in one place together, but because of my recovery it was going to be difficult for me to hop back and forth from Phoenix to Forks and still keep seeing the physio. Neither of them had seen me since I'd started at _Force, _so Mom had taken a few days leave from her teaching post and had come here.

"Morning!" She said, seeing me in the doorway.

"Morning," I replied. I had inherited my ballet body from my Mom. She was tall and slim, although the corners of her eyes were crinkled with smile lines, and her hair was messy. She was useless at taking care of herself – she dedicated herself to her students, and that usually ended up with her replacing eating and sleep with assignment marking and extra tutoring. Phil, her new husband, seemed to be taking care of her, though, since she was still in one piece. He'd stayed back in Phoenix, knowing that Mom was going to be fully preoccupied with me.

And she certainly was.

Now, she helped me into a seat at the table, and then plonked a big plate of eggs and bacon in front of me.

"Mom..." I said.

"Oh quit fussing!" She clucked, throwing some strawberries into the blender. "Even ballerinas are allowed to eat on Thanksgiving!"

I laughed, "But what about ballerinas who've been eating like it's Thanksgiving for two weeks?"

Mom shrugged, "You were practising."

I grinned and yielded, stabbing a hash brown with my fork. "Just be careful with that blender."

"I second that motion," said Dad, looking concernedly at her as Mom tried to fit the lid on.

"Oh come on, Charlie," she laughed, "I'm not _that _bad a cook."

Dad and I exchanged conspiratorial glances.

"Hey, who's that?" Mom said suddenly, looking out the window.

I followed her gaze. A dirty-looking Audi had pulled up outside. I didn't recognize it, but I would know that jet black hair anywhere.

As fast as I could, I rushed out of the kitchen, down the corridor and out the door. "Alice!" I shouted as she climbed out of the car.

"Bella!" she squealed. She threw her arms around me in a tight hug, despite being so small. "It's so good to see you!"

"You too!" I could hardly contain myself. "What are you doing here, Ali'?"

"Well, I was driving home for Thanksgiving, but my parents are in Brazil at the moment so it's not like anyone's waiting for me, so I figured I'd come and see you for a wee bit!"

"Thanksgiving alone?" I said. "You're kidding – you have to stay with us!"

Alice grinned and rolled her eyes, "Well, if it's okay with your folks."

"Of course!" I said, spinning around to see Mom and Dad standing on the porch, looking in total surprise at my friend. Actually, I couldn't really blame them. She wasn't in one of her usual glitzy leotards, but Alice was still dressed for attention. Today, the colour scheme was red, yellow and blue. Her bubble skirt was made of layers and layers of tulle, much like a tutu, but each primary coloured layer was trimmed to reveal another one underneath. It was fastened tight around her waist. She wore a fitted black jacket on top, black tights, blue school girl heels and, of course, red leg warmers.

Yeah, no wonder Mom and Dad were staring. "Mom, Dad," I said, tugging her with me. "This is Alice, my friend from _Force."_

"It's a pleasure," Mom said, reaching to shake her hand. Dad followed suit, though he quirked an eyebrow at me as he did so. I realized Alice's amazing fashion wasn't the only reason they were surprised – this was probably the most animated they'd seen me since I'd come back.

"Mom, can Alice stay for dinner and everything?" I asked excitedly. "She lives in Spokane, but her parents are in Brazil."

Mom smiled, "Well, no one should be alone at Thanksgiving, should they?"

Alice grinned, "Thank you so much."

"But you have to be prepared to eat more than just a Brussels sprout," warned Dad.

Alice laughed as they led us inside, "Don't worry, I sneak in a pop tart before every performance."

"Seriously?" I said.

"Yeah," Alice replied. "Whilst you and Edward are switching states and stealing tutus, Jasper and I are putting our feet up and getting a sugar hit."

Mom sat us down at the table and put an identical plate of food in front of Alice. "Ah, so you know the mysterious 'Edward', Alice?"

"I do indeed," Alice said, poking her tongue out at me. "So Bella hasn't given you the boyfriend rundown yet?"

"Nope," said Dad. "Though we'd love to know."

I sighed. I didn't really know why I was so reluctant to tell Mom and Dad the whole story of Edward and me, except that they were both incredibly practical, intelligent people and I seriously doubted that they would approve of such an unrealistic, unreliable relationship. I knew they couldn't disapprove of Edward; he was Prince Charming himself.

_Actually, _I thought with a smile, _he has literally been Prince Charming in _Cinderella_ with the Paris Opera. _But that was just it – he was far too good for me, ballet-wise. And my parents, loving and protective, wouldn't want me to be with someone who would eventually have to leave me. Who could break my heart...

"Well, he's a great guy," Alice said diplomatically. Thank God she was good at reading people.

"Where is he right now?" I asked her. "He's not staying at _Force, _I hope?" I hadn't had as much contact with Edward as we'd wanted – my computer was useless and Edward could only really call once or twice a week. Despite all my worries about our future, I was desperate to see him.

Alice shook her head, "No, I think he'd rather be, though; his father's home for once, so he's back in Chicago." She gave me a meaningful look.

"Ah," I said, understanding her perfectly. Edward's father had found out very soon after the Review that Edward had lost Tanya and had made an impromptu appearance on stage with some random first year girl who had no standing in the ballet world whatsoever. In a phone call to me, Edward had told me that his father was enraged, but that I shouldn't worry; Edward would protect me. That had hardly done anything for my nerves. I was going to need a bodyguard to face down Anthony Masen? Hardly reassuring...

"Your boy's a city dweller, is he?" said Dad.

"Yeah," I said, a little thrill shooting up my spine with the words 'your boy'. _My boy..._

"Ugh!" Alice exclaimed dramatically. "You get that same goofy smile he does every time you think of him!"

"I do not!" I said.

"Do so!" Mom and Alice said in unison.

Mom laughed and pointed at Alice with a potato peeler, "I like this girl."

"So how'd you end up being at this ballet place, Alice?" asked Dad, simultaneously avoiding his terrible French pronunciation and displaying his lack of respect for _Force_.

Alice smiled at me, knowing that my parents weren't the most avid ballet supporters. "Well, I started dancing when I was tiny, and I pretty much stayed in the same studio 'til I was fifteen, then I decided I wanted to take up ballet as a professional kinda thing because I just loved it so much. And I auditioned for a whole load of schools and finally _Force _let me in on scholarship."

"Scholarship?" Mom repeated, exchanging a glance with my Dad. "Was it particularly difficult getting one?"

"Yeah," Alice admitted. "I mean, they give out only one or two and they almost always go to dancers from overseas."

"Like Russian danseurs, for instance?" I said, nudging Alice.

She sighed happily, "Mhm. Fortunately...anyways, I feel really privileged to have one. I swear that there's not a school in the World which could beat _Force _in its success rates. We have more students than any other school going into top ballet companies each year."

"Told you I was in the right place," I said teasingly to Mom, but she just gave me a half-smile and returned to her cooking.

"Bella," said Dad. "You should show Alice here some of the tracks around the park."

Alice and I both glanced down at her Jimmy Choos, then burst into laughter. "Come on," I said. "I'll show you round the house instead."

We couldn't help but hear the hushed voices of my parents beginning to squabble as we closed the door.

\*\*/*/

"So has there been any news about Tanya?" I asked Alice as we sat in my room. She was carefully studying my wardrobe, making _very _explanatory faces at my poor fashion choices.

She paused halfway through holding up another of my dad's old baseball shirts. "Nope; she's gone completely off the radar, which either means she's been cast onto the street by her family _or _that she's plotting something."

"Is she still enrolled?"

Alice shook her head, "Emmett checked during one of his weekly snoops around Carlisle's office. Her file's still there, but it says she transferred elsewhere."

"Where?" I asked.

"Haven't a clue, Miss Prima Ballerina who should stop being so worried about a nobody," Alice abandoned my closet and came to sit next to me on my bed. She slung an arm round my shoulders, "She's gone for good, Bella. Edward is yours."

"Then who's he been dancing with in partnering?"

Alice gave an exasperated sigh, "Me and Rose most of the time. And trust me, it is not fun."

I frowned, "Why not? He's perfec – "

Alice held up a manicured finger, "Uh uh, do not say that, 'cause he's not. Partnering Edward Masen is like pretending to be a pink Gucci handbag when you're a plastic supermarket bag."

"I'm the Gucci?" I guessed, feeling more anxious than flattered.

"Yup," Alice said, popping the 'p'. "Honestly, he doesn't complain or anything, it's just..." she twisted her lips comically, thinking. "It's just that after seeing the two of you dancing together at the Review, I just know he's holding himself back and getting frustrated." Alice patted me on the back, "He really misses you. I wasn't kidding earlier – every time there's a mention of you, his eyes light up and he's listening."

I blushed, "I miss him, too."

Alice grinned and flung herself back onto my pillows, "Ah!" she exclaimed dramatically. "Young love!"

\*\*/*/

Dinner went off without a hitch. Despite my Mom being in charge, the food wasn't half bad, and Alice was her charming self, easily skipping from hilarious story to hilarious story, asking questions and complimenting on cue. It was a perfect Thanksgiving dinner. The only hitch was whenever I caught Mom and Dad glancing at each other uneasily across the table. I wondered if it was something to do with Alice, though I really couldn't see how they couldn't like her.

It was after dinner that we finally got the answer to the mystery. Alice and I had cleaned up, insisting that the two chefs go and take a break. And now we returned to the living room to see my parents sitting there, carefully arranged smiles on their faces.

"What?" I said uncertainly as they looked at me, their anxiousness showing right through.

"We have a present for you, sweetie," said Mom.

"Since when did Thanksgiving involve presents?" I asked confusedly.

"There's a first for everything," she replied. "Sit down..."

Alice and I awkwardly sat on the other couch. Somehow I sensed that Alice's presence was making whatever this was even more difficult for my parents.

I looked expectantly at them, and Dad produced a large white envelope. "Happy Thanksgiving, Bells."

My nerves growing, I took it. "Am I getting Grandma Swan's Christmas money early?" I asked in vain, even though it was way too big to be one of Grandma's homemade cards.

Mom gave a high, off-key laugh. "No. Just open it..."

With a deep breath, I slid my thumb under the seal and tore it open. Inside was a glossy booklet. Frowning, I pulled it out. The front cover had a danseur in arabesque – one leg outstretched behind him, one arm reaching in front – on a dark stage, his lean muscles and handsome face only lit in blue light. Had it been just the photo, I would have marvelled at his perfect line and technique...but then I read the calligraphy above:

_Aro Colaianni_

_School of Contemporary and Classical Dance_

_Syllabus 2011_

I stared at the words, unable to speak. I didn't even want to contemplate...but already my mind was spinning into frenzy. "Mom..." I whispered. "What are you suggesting here?"

After a quick look to Dad for support, Mom dived in. "They have a fantastic reputation," she said. "And all students have to do academics through correspondence school."

"Mom," I said desperately, finally looking up at her. I could feel tears sparking behind my eyes. "I don't care about academics..."

"Well, their dancing's meant to be good, as well," she replied, equally desperate.

"Yeah, Bells," said Dad. "It's meant to be right up there with the Boilshoi and all those other Russian places..."

"It's the _Bolshoi," _I said. "And I don't care anyway – it's not _Force."_

"I know, sweetie," said Mom, leaning across to pat me on the knee. I remained unmoved. "But _Force _isn't the only school, and Colaianni is closer, and – "

"And what?" I demanded. "_Force _is perfect for me; this," I held the book up, my nails digging into its cover. "_This _is not. Why...how could you even _think _that I would want to change schools?"

"Well, you've come back here in pieces, hardly able to walk, and we thought you'd like the chance to keep going with normal school work, and you've been so distracted by this Edward boy..."

I shook my head, "That's total crap, Mom; you _know _I have never been happier than at _Force."_

"Well, sweetie...there is another reason..."

"What?" I snapped.

Dad awkwardly coughed, looking at Alice.

She had been totally silent since I'd opened my 'present', frozen, staring at the book in horror. Now she seemed to come to her senses. "Uh, I'd...better call my parents before it gets too late..." quickly, she was out the door, giving us some space.

"What?" I asked again.

Mom and Dad exchanged glances again, and this time it was Dad who leant forward with clasped hands. "_Force _is getting quite...expensive, Bells. Your Mom's work isn't exactly giving her much at the moment and I've never been in a position to pay for private tuition. We've paid for the rest of this term, Bells, but..." he sighed. "We can't afford to keep you there anymore."

I gulped, taken aback. "But isn't there some sort of a scholarship...?" But by the end of the sentence the idea had already been scrapped.

"Like your friend said earlier, there aren't many, and we've checked, sweetie," Mom gave me a sad smile. "There's nothing, and even with an endorsement from somewhere, we wouldn't have enough to cover all the costs of boarding and classes and shoes and tights and all those other things you dancers seem to need..."

"Did you talk to Master Carlisle?" I asked.

"Carlisle Cullen's not in charge of scholarships, Bella," said Dad. "It's up to the board, and they can't just dish out money to anyone in need."

"Oh God," I whispered, putting a hand to my forehead. This was a nightmare... "But why Colaianni? Surely they're just as expensive."

"Well," said Mom. "That's where the sort of good surprise comes in – look in the envelope."

Cautiously, I looked in again and pulled out a piece of paper. It was a letter...

_Dear Miss Swan,_

_I am happy to inform you that you have been accepted into Aro Colaianni's as a level three student. We apologize for the lateness of this acceptance, as we were informed of your entrance into another school before we could send it. However, one of our scholarship students has had to leave the academy, and as you are next on the list we feel it is only right to inform you that the position is now vacant for you. _

_Should you choose to accept this position, all tuition fees will be accounted for under the full scholarship, as well as reduced boarding fees in our academy apartments. The scholarship is subject to absolute compliance with academy rules, and a display of development and commitment in all subjects. These criteria will be examined on a fortnightly basis by a member of the faculty._

_We hope to hear of your decision soon._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Caius Volturi_

_Headmaster,_

_Aro Colaianni School of Contemporary and Classical Dance_

_Seattle, WA_

"I got a scholarship?" I whispered.

Mom nodded, smiling.

I shook my head, "They actually think I'm good enough..."

It was difficult to get my head around – it had been over half a year since I had attended audition after audition for different ballet schools around the country; Julliard, US Ballet, Walnut Hill, Joffrey, Pacific Northwest and, yes, Aro Colaianni_. _But it had been _Force de la Beauté _which I had really wanted to get into. And when I had gotten their acceptance letter, the thought of attending any other school had gone out the window, Colaianni included. But I never even imagined that I'd be anywhere _close _to being offered a scholarship!

_But I won't be at _Force...

I bit my lip, looking back at my parents, "I can't take this. I have to find a way to stay at _Force."_

"There is no way, sweetie," said Mom. "And they're offering you a _full scholarship!"_

"That's one heck of a compliment, Bells," Dad put in.

"I know," I said quietly. "But I don't care if they give me a thousand scholarships – it's not _Force." _I shook my head, knowing I was being stupid. "I'm sorry," I said. "I know there's nothing you can do...and if Collaianni is offering me a chance to keep dancing, then I guess...I'll take it."

Mom stood up and gave me a hug. "I promise, sweetie, you'll have a ball there!"

Dad put his arms round the both of us, "We're so proud of you, Bells." I smiled, but inside I was dying.

\*\*/*/

I found Alice up in my room, pulling bed clothes onto the mattress we'd found for her.

"Hey," I said quietly.

"Hey," she replied, equally softly. She finished tugging on the corner of a sheet and stood up. Worry played in her eyes. "So...what's happening?"

"My parents don't have the money to keep me at _Force," _I said blankly. "And Aro Colainni's has offered me a full scholarship. I start in the Spring."

"A scholarship?" Alice repeated, a frown suddenly on her face.

I nodded, "Apparently someone had to pull out, and I was next in line."

"Isn't that a bit odd, this far into the year...?" she sighed and shook her head. "It doesn't matter...I guess I should say congratulations..." she gave me a sympathetic smile.

I pushed my fingers through my hair. "I just can't believe it...and I can't face leaving _Force..."_

"You've still got the rest of the semester. Maybe by then we'll have worked something out."

But we both knew it was totally unrealistic.

We got ready for bed in silence. There was nothing more to be said...I had to go. I just couldn't believe that it things had come crashing down in the space of a few short minutes. And that I hadn't thought about fees before...I'd just assumed that my parents were able to pay them. But a private boarding school, dance or no dance, was always going to have been expensive...and _Force..._well, it didn't get the best dance teachers in the world through charity.

"Don't tell Edward," I said quietly as I sat on the bed, plaiting my hair.

"I know," Alice replied solemnly. How had a day of fun turned into this? "He'll be sad. Of course you should tell him yourself."

I nodded, though the very thought of telling Edward that I was leaving _Force _made me feel sick.

"Oh!" Alice suddenly exclaimed, abruptly returning to her usual state of bounciness. "That reminds me..." she got up and rifled around in her suitcase. Eventually, she brought out a small black box, tied with a dark blue ribbon. "Here – hopefully a nice present this time. Edward thrust it into my hands as I was leaving."

I gave her a small smile, "Thanks."

Taking the box, I undid the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside, cushioned in dark blue satin, was a shining silver pinkie ring, intricately carved and...perfect. And looking closer, there was a thin band of delicate blue sapphires running through the centre of the carvings. "This is beautiful," I whispered.

There was a note tucked into the side of the box. My heart fluttering, I took it out. Edward's neat, almost old-fashioned handwriting was easily recognizable;

_Bella,_

_I wish I could be the one with you today, though Alice is very excited to see you – I miss you so much and I know that recovering from injury is as lonely as anything. But since I can't be, here is a trinket. Don't worry – it didn't cost me anything. Just a part of me to always be with you._

_Happy Thanksgiving,_

_Edward_

I stared at the note. My heart ached – would he still be able to give a part of himself to me when I was at Aro Colaianni's and not at _Force? _How could he? We wouldn't be dancing together or even seeing each other...it would be over. _Our relationship is over before it's even begun..._

I gulped back tears, and tried to remind myself that I still had what was left of class until Christmas. I still had him until then...we could still be together, still act like everything was perfect.

Gently, I took the ring from the box and put it on my right pinkie finger. I understood why it wasn't a full sized ring – I could cover this with sports tape and wear it on stage. _A part of me to always be with you...always._

With a sigh, I put the box on my desk and flicked off the light.

"Goodnight, Alice."

"Goodnight..." I could hear she wanted to say more, but she let me be.

I curled up under my comforter and pressed my lips against the cool metal of the ring. _Edward...what can I do?_

\*\*/*/

Alice left the next morning. Her cheeriness was a little more forced than usual, but she thanked my parents with all the necessary graces. After she left, I slipped back, even deeper this time, into despair. My parents tried to cheer me up with telling me all sorts of facts they'd gathered about Aro Colaianni, but they didn't understand. I tried not to resent them. After all, there was nothing they could do; if there wasn't the money, then there wasn't the money. But I couldn't feign acceptance. I slouched around the house for days, eating little and talking even less. The only time I went out was to visit the physio.

She gave me the piece of news that I had been waiting for for so long; that my ankle was strong enough to dance on again.

It was time to return to _Force de la Beauté._

* * *

><p>Oh dear, poor Bella...<p>

Still, it's so good to be back with them!

**Please review! **

**I want to know, even if it's to tell me I should find a small hole and not come out of it ever again for fear of literary apocalypse!**

**Tell me your thoughts! :D Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

Hello!

Ugh, what a day!

Lost my voice, wrote two okay-ish essays and now it's past midnight...

Anyways! Who cares!

Yay! Update! Finally!

**Thank you so much if you reviewed!**

**I read and take to heart each and every one and these were really helpful!**

**Merci!**

****Okay, gonna go sleep now...

**Please review!**

and

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Forever Young - One Direction (yes, I think they're awesome! So's their autotuner...but hey! Still good!)<em>

* * *

><p>Rolling my suitcase wheels down the cobblestoned driveway of <em>Force <em>reminded me of the first time I'd entered those gates. It had only been a few months, and yet everything I saw now was marked with memories. The long, wet road outside where I'd ran to catch the bus after Lauren, one of the bitches of my class, had put gum on my pointe shoe. The car park where Edward had told me he was just my teacher and didn't love me at all. The big turning circle where all the US Ballet coaches had stopped and I'd met the unbearable Jeffrey Evans, US Ballet Academy's Artistic Director.

And finally the iconic double doors and pointe shoe door knocker which marked the entrance into _Force de la Beauté. _

I hauled my suitcase up the steps and opened the door. A smile broke out across my face as I entered into the massive entrance hall, with its grand staircase leading up to the studios and dorms, the cherry wood floors, the glittering chandelier and large, spacious windows shining pale light down the stairs. It was silent. I glanced at my watch – 1:55. Everyone would be in class now.

Not able to stop grinning, I put my suitcase at the bottom of the stairs and slipped into the office. Mrs Cope sat in exactly the same place as she'd sat when I'd signed out after my injury, behind the same massive stacks of files and notes.

"Yes?" she said without looking up. "No, that will not be possible until March. The information pack should have been sent – "

"Excuse me, ma'am," I said quietly.

Mrs Cope looked up at me agitatedly. "Please hold a moment, sir." With the click of a button, a piece of paper was shot out of the printer. She grabbed it and handed it to me. "Your new timetable. You've still got two periods today, which you'll be expected to go to. All dormitory arrangements are the same."

"Thank you, ma'am."

She gave me a nod, then went straight back to the phone, a clear sign for me to go.

I went back out into the entrance hall and began my long trek up to the third floor. As I struggled with my suitcase, I looked at my timetable. I couldn't understand why I'd been given a new one...until I saw extra time slots added to the end of three of my days:

_5:30 – 6:45 Private Partnering_

_T: C Carlisle_

A thrill of nerves went through me. So Master Carlisle had meant what he'd said after the accident – he was going to teach Edward and me how to dance together properly. Edward and I had only danced three times. The very first time had been choreographed, but it was just a short combination...and he'd stormed out at the end of it.

The second time had been a long time later, right after Tanya had tripped me over on stage, Edward had come on, to the total surprise of everyone, particularly those of us who thought he was in New York, and helped me dance through the rest of the piece. The last time had been that same night. I suppose it had been incredibly stupid to dance on an already injured ankle, but painkillers, adrenalin and my emotions had clouded over the pain, and Edward and I had danced to our piece, _Clair de Lune. _That, of course, had been totally impromptu, and completely wonderful...

So we hadn't had to dance a choreographed piece together, and that freedom to just let ourselves go completely was amazing...but Master Carlisle had made it clear that that was the only way our relationship – our connection – would ever work. But I was worried that as soon as we started choreographing and working on technique, Edward would realize just how inexperienced I was and wouldn't want to dance with me anymore...

_Not that that will even matter, since I'm leaving – _

I bit my lip hard, stopping at the top of the third floor staircase, then shoved the thought out of my head. I was planning on telling Edward tonight, and until then...I just wanted to pretend it wasn't happening.

With a determined sigh, I tugged my suitcase along across the polished wooden floor of the corridor to the First Year girls' dorm. Opening the door, I saw that everything was just as I'd left it. The same old fashioned single beds running up either side of the long room, couches at the back, rose embroidered curtains and strong scent of twenty different perfumes.

Delighted, I dumped my suitcase at the foot of the bed nearest to the door. My _bed_, I thought with a smile. _I'm home!_

With a sudden desire to hurry up and see my friends, I quickly flicked open my suitcase and changed into the usual pale pink tights and black leo. Then I tugged on some track pants and a dark blue wrap, chucked my water bottle and shoes in my dance bag and headed out.

I could hardly contain myself on the short walk from the dorm to Ballet History. I was finally back at _Force..._and I was about to see all my friends and dance again!

Trying to resemble some dignity, I knocked on the window of Master Butler's classroom and then entered. My class sat in the usual rows, all looking half asleep. Ballet History was more of a nap period than an actual class.

"Miss Swan," Master Butler said in his usual monotone, as if I was already scripted in the lecture he was giving.

But suddenly my classmates spun around in their chairs, quite awake.

"Bella!" came the unmistakeable squeal of Violet. "Ohmigod!"

And then my friends were up from their seats, giving me hugs.

"Hey Bella!" said Eliza, one of my good friends, as she threw her arms around me. "We were all wondering when you were gonna be back!"

"I didn't know until a couple of days ago," I said.

"How's your ankle, Bella?" asked Ben, giving me a shy smile.

"On the mend," I replied. "How are you guys, though? I've missed you so much!"

Before they could say anything, Master Butler cleared his throat. "Students, if you could just settle down...so Stravinsky's techniques were often shunned by..."

Eliza rolled her eyes at me, but kept grinning as everyone sat back down. The only seat left in the class was at the back, next to the one person who had given no reaction to my arrival; Lauren.

My old enemy sat with her arms crossed over her stomach, glaring at the board. She'd had a haircut since I'd last seen her, and now it was short, above the shoulders, and a bleached into a very pale blond. Feeling my gaze on her, she turned, raising a pointed eyebrow at me. "What?"

"Nothing," I muttered.

"If you're waiting for an 'I've missed you so much', I wouldn't hold your breath," she smirked, turning to look back at the board.

I rolled my eyes, but I wasn't about to let Lauren ruin my return.

Ballet History went slowly, as usual, but I was still too excited to be bored. As Master Butler went into detail about Stravinsky's relationship with the choreographer during the Rite of Spring, I looked around at my class, recalling faces, observing all the changes, revelling in the fact that I was back with them! Finally!

As the lesson finally reached its end, though, and the clock hands moved, nerves began buzzing in me. Because our next class was partnering...

Eventually the bell rung shrill, and everyone leapt up, grabbing their bags and heading for the door.

"So how was being home?" asked Eliza as we walked down the corridor.

"Dull," I said. _Until I'd received my 'present'... _"Nothing much happened, really."

"But what about _Edward?" _Violet demanded excitedly, coming up on my other side. "Are you guys still going out?"

"Vi'..." Eliza said warningly, though she looked at me with equal curiosity.

I laughed, "Well, last time I checked, I think it was a 'yes'."

"Yay!" Violet squealed. "Honestly, no one's stopped talking about the Review, and it's been ages!"

"Great," I murmured. Now we had reached the second floor, which was more crowded. Students on their way to classes recognized me as we walked past, and quickly started talking to their friends. I swallowed – I had almost forgotten the tight gossip circles of _Force. _

"God," Violet gasped dramatically. "You're like Nicole Kidman walking onto a movie set. _Force _royalty!"

"Just see what people think of her _majesty_ when she starts dancing," Lauren muttered, coming up behind us. "Unfortunately, partnering calls for equal strength from both partners. Princey might not be so satisfied."

"Oh shut up, Lauren," Eliza snapped.

She smirked and walked on.

Violet huffed, "It's just because Tyler chose Selene over her, asked to change partners and everything."

"And was he allowed to?" I asked.

Eliza shook her head, "Nope. He asked when Edward was still running everything. I'm pretty sure he's still getting revenge for a certain someone..."

I blushed, my heart fluttering.

We reached the studio and entered. The room where so much had happened was the same as ever – mirrors covering three walls, big windows on the fourth. Smooth wooden ballet barres were attached to the walls and a piano and stereo sat in the corner. And at the piano sat Mrs Gerran, the pianist who had seen everything that had happened in here. I gave her a smile as I dumped my bag and began putting on my ballet slippers. She returned it with a shy but welcoming wave.

Eliza, Violet and I warmed up together. My legs felt stiff and they didn't move as I wanted them to, and I had to think about my posture instead of it being natural. It was frustrating seeing my friends easily sink into stretches when I could hardly do a front split. Still, I was glad to be back.

"So what else has been happening?" I asked as I pulled a leg warmer over my bad ankle.

"Not much," Eliza said. "Everyone's just been working hard for exams."

"Oh _God," _I groaned. "When?"

"Just before Christmas," Violet said. "But don't worry! You'll be fine!"

Right then, the door opened. A thrill of excited nerves charged through me. I stood up with the others. The first person to enter was a tall man with a handlebar moustache and a frank expression. _He must be our new partnering teacher, _I thought. But then all thought through from my head.

Edward! He walked in with his usual confident stride. His hair was the same dark bronze, slightly dishevelled and – I could finally think it without feeling weird – seriously sexy. He was wearing a navy blue v-neck t-shirt and track pants, and of course a pair of worn leather ballet shoes.

I could feel everyone looking from me to him, waiting. All I could do was grin like an idiot as he put his bag down by the piano.

"Good afternoon, class," said the teacher.

"Good afternoon, Master Lawson," everyone chorused. I curtsied haphazardly with the rest of them, still not able to draw my eyes away from Edward as he greeted Mrs Gerran.

"Ah, you must be Miss Swan," said Master Lawson.

At my name, Edward finally turned and saw me standing there. His face first flickered with disbelief, then his lips broke into a heart melting smile. I grinned back, biting my lip to stop myself from laughing in delight. The moment did not last long, though.

"Miss Swan?"

We both broke away from each other's gaze, snapping to attention. Oh crap – everyone was laughing. Well, everyone save Master Lawson, whose moustache was bristling agitatedly.

"Uh," I began, then cleared my throat. _Focus!_ "Yes, sir."

He nodded, "Good. You may go with Mister Newton today, and we shall see if any changes need to be made."

"Yes sir," I nodded. Glancing at Edward, I saw that he was focussing completely on Master Lawson now, his face betraying none of the excitement I had seen seconds earlier. I guessed that now probably wasn't the time for a proper 'welcome home'.

"Alright, positions, please!" Master Lawson ordered.

Determined to ignore Edward, I went to my usual place on the far side of the room, by the windows. Mike came in behind me. I gave him a quick smile to reassure him. Mike returned it.

"Beginning with a simple sequence – pique arabesque, and into pirouette..." the teacher demonstrated each move. "Courus downstage and finish in attitude. Understood?" With nods from the class, he gestured for Mrs Gerran to begin. "And five six seven eight..."

I stepped up into arabesque, lifting my leg behind me and reaching my arm in front. Mike's hands rested on my hips. I felt a little shaky with my balance, and I knew my leg wasn't as high as it should have been. I bit my lip and fixed my turn out. My ankle and loss of flexibility weren't to be helped, but I could try and at least focus a little.

As we went through the first few simple combinations, I found that my body was beginning to wake up, and my muscles were remembering the movements.

I was in attitude when I saw Edward approaching in the mirror. Casually, his fingers brushed mine, supposedly fixing something. I tried not to look as my heart thudded. Gently, I let my finger touch his knuckle. _I am just correcting my hands, _I reasoned stupidly, looking hazily forward.

As someone somewhere cleared their throat, Edward dropped his hand from mine. "Point your foot, Mister Newton," he said in that blunt tone which could fool anyone that he was the usual superior and unbeatable Edward Masen, then went on to the next partnership. I hastily moved onto the next move with my heart thudding.

After that, the class seemed to take a lifetime. Master Lawson turned out to be quite a good tutor. He reminded me of my old science teachers back at Forks High – methodical and straight to the point. He didn't take any of Selene and Jane's chattering, and he spent an equal amount of time with each partnership. He wasn't inspiring, exactly, but I sensed that he was just what my class needed after the weeks of drama we had had with Madame Wright – an ex-principal dancer who couldn't teach and had instead made us do moves we had never properly been taught how to do.

But Edward was such a big distraction. Every time I heard his voice correcting someone, I lost where I was in the combination. As we progressed to larger combinations and had to wait our turn on the dance floor, I couldn't help but watch him intently, revising every inch of him.

As the clock on the wall inched its hands toward five-thirty, more and more butterflies fluttered around my stomach. Leaving so soon after our relationship begun had meant that it had taken on dreamlike quality...and once again I found it hard to believe that it was possible for Edward Masen to want to be with someone like me.

_Well, _I thought as Mike and I finished our combination and went to the back. _I should make the most of him while it lasts._

Christmas...I must have been the only kid in the World to be dreading it.

"Alright, class," Master Lawson finally announced. He ran a hand over his moustache and then put his hands on his hips. Regardless of his abilities and science-teacher personality, that moustache and his white tank top made him look like a bodybuilder from the Sixties. "There was some improvement today. Tomorrow I want to do a quick revision of the fish, since some of you are still uncertain, and then we'll move on to the exam pieces which need to be learnt. Thank you very much for your focus today. You're dismissed."

"Thank you, sir," everyone chorused. The class broke into conversation as everyone packed up.

Master Lawson was talking to Edward, and so I went to sit down by Eliza and Violet. They just looked at me for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"You are so cute, Bella!" Violet giggled.

I bit my lip again – something I seemed to be doing a lot of today – and flexed my feet awkwardly. "Was I really that transparent?"

"Oh yeah," Eliza nodded.

I would have been embarrassed...but I didn't have enough space for anything but excitement. With a gnawing impatience, I waited for everyone to leave. I pretended to be searching around in my ballet bag for something or other, and then pulling up my legwarmer, and then retying my wrap. Across the room, Edward was sifting through a pile of sheet music. We weren't exactly doing a very convincing job; everyone was looking between the two of us again, waiting for something to happen.

But finally the last of them realized that they weren't going to get anything out of us for the gossip circles and they left. The door shut behind Selene, Jane and Abigail just as I was redoing the elastic of my slipper for the fifth time.

In seconds, the music and shoes were abandoned. Edward was in front of me in a flash, his arms wrapping around my waist, my hands locking around his neck. "Bella," he breathed as our lips touched. I pulled closer. _Yes! Finally! _I felt his smile as we kissed again and again, not able to get enough. My fingers knotted in his hair, my breathing turned ragged. Laughter mixed between touches as we relearned each other after so long apart. _Finally..._

Edward pulled us back against the wall by the door. His arms clasped me closer still, his hands exploring my back, brushing the bare skin where my leotard opened. I ran my hands down his chest, recalling the hard contours, the perfection. There were other dancers, other partners, but none of them could ever be like Edward. He was perfect...and he was mine!

Finally, after what seemed like far too short a time, we came up for air.

"I've missed you so much," Edward murmured. Both of us were breathing heavily, and grinning like there was no tomorrow.

Now, I stared into his sparkling green eyes, alight with energy. "And I you," I said quietly, tracing the line of his jaw.

We stayed quiet in each other's arms for a moment, catching our breath again and just...marvelling. _Finally...finally!_

"You didn't give me fair warning," Edward said after a while. "Poor Mike Newton was in serious danger of being totalled. That he should get to dance with you before me..." he made a face.

I laughed, "Tough love. My physio only gave me the go ahead yesterday."

"You're not allowed en pointe?" he asked, looking down at my ballet slippers.

"She said to ease back into it," I said. "So not too much pointe for the next few days."

He grinned at me, "Who cares, so long as you're back."

I pushed away the little thought niggling inside my head that was saying I wasn't going to be back for long. Hoping my expression hadn't changed, I quickly remembered; "Thank you for your present."

Edward took my right hand. The sapphires and silver glinted now that I had taken the sports tape off. "It suits you," he said softly, putting a gentle kiss on the cool metal, and then another on my lips.

I smiled and pulled away, instead twirling into the middle of the studio. "It's so good to dance again!" I exclaimed, feeling the air brush past my skin as I pirouetted.

Edward laughed, and his hands were quickly turning waist, letting me spin for longer. It was always better en pointe, but dancing was dancing, regardless. And dancing with Edward...

Easily, he lifted me high above his head, one hand on my inner thigh, the other just under my ribs. I let my eyes flutter shut as I floated above everything, my arm reaching out in front of me. I felt beautiful, like a true dancer, for the first time in months.

Gently, Edward lowered me back down, placing me in front of him. We stood in the silence for a moment. At the very centre of us was dance...somehow it had connected us to each other before we had even really met. And that connection, it seemed, was still as strong as ever.

"We should go," Edward said eventually, tracing my collarbone. "I'm sure the others will want to see you."

"I suppose," I sighed, then met his eyes. "One more minute?"

He laughed, and we spent our last minute in another state of bliss.

It was after six when we reached the Dining Hall. We dumped our bags outside the door and entered. The Dining Hall was a massive room, decorated with rich tapestries and chandeliers. Big circular tables took up the space, along with a dais where the teachers presided over the students.

People stared as Edward and I entered.

"Great - front page already," I muttered, quickly patting down my hair.

Edward laughed and wrapped his arm around my waist. "Don't worry, they'll get over us eventually."

He made it sound as if from here everything would be smooth sailing, but surely he had know that our problems were far from over – I was still a First Year, Tanya was still sitting somewhere with revenge on her mind, and we had yet to see how Master Carlisle's private lessons would work out. I doubted the gossips would ever run out of our drama. _Particularly after I drop the Aro Colaianni bomb._

"Bella," Edward said, pulling me to him as we stood in the queue. He tugged my hands around his back and fixed me with those striking green eyes. "Do _not _worry about them. Gossips don't matter."

"I know," I said, and hoped that Edward didn't realize that it wasn't the gossips, but what they might be gossiping _about._

We grabbed our food and made our way over to the usual table.

"Bella!" Alice jumped out of her seat and threw her arms around me. "You're finally back!"

I was soon embraced by Jasper, Alice's boyfriend from Russia, and then Emmett, Master Carlisle and Madame Esme's heavily muscled son. Even Rosalie, Jasper beautiful and slightly menacing twin, shot me a smile.

We all sat down, Edward and I next to each other, and it was like it had always been like this. Tanya was forgotten, it seemed.

"So why are you two so late?" Emmett demanded in a voice so much like his father's. "Since when do you get to keep Bella all to yourself?"

"We had class."

"Those poor innocent First Years," Alice said dolefully, shaking her head. "Scarred for life..."

It was a fun evening – Emmett's jokes were sillier than ever, Rosalie's chastisements just as harsh. The boys teased Edward mercilessly for his 'love struck' expression until Edward turned to Emmett and said, "Emmett, remember when I _didn't _say anything about your odd appearance that one night outside the library window?"

That mysteriously silenced his mocking for the rest of the night.

Once dinner was over, we headed up to the Senior Common Room. I wasn't really meant to be in there since I was a First Year, but it seemed that Edward ruled the place, and so no one bothered me. We sprawled on the couches, Edward lying behind me with an arm slung over my waist, and talked for hours.

As I hung out with my friends, the most amazing guy in the world behind me, at the best ballet academy in America, I realized that I couldn't face the thought of leaving...it just wasn't possible. Maybe in Forks, away from all this, I could delude myself into thinking Aro's would be okay. But here, I knew I couldn't go...

At ten, long after First Year curfew, we finally stood up again.

Alice gave me a hug goodnight. "Have you told him yet?" she asked quietly.

I shook my head. "I will," I said.

Edward walked me down the dark corridors back to my dorm. At the door, he stopped me and pulled me to him.

"Bella," he said softly. In the dim light, I could see his eyes turn solemn. "I missed you so much." His thumb ran across my lip. Gently, he leaned in, his breath ghosting my lips. "Welcome home."

And as we kissed, I tried to summon up the courage from somewhere...somehow...but I could not find the strength in me to break this moment.

"It's good to be home."

* * *

><p>Forgive me for any mistakes...I'm a leetle tired...<p>

**Please review! Tell me your thoughts, fears, wishes! **

**Cheers! Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

Helloooooo!

Woohoo! School's out for a few weeks!

I'm so sorry it's taken so long. This term has been a bit crazy, with a lot of performances and rehearsals and blah de blah.

But now, with at least one week of near-nothingness, things should pick up!

**Thank you so much to those who reviewed (some of you twice, even!).**

**I am so sorry I have taken such a long time, but thanks for being awesome enough to keep nagging me!**

**I couldn't do this without you guys, so thanks!**

Anyways,

**Please review!**

**And Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Concerning Hobbits - Howard Shore (Lord of the Rings) <em>Yes, yes, I know - this is just my go-to piece, you know?

_Clair de Lune - Claude Debussy _I give you one guess why...:D**  
><strong>

* * *

><p>I woke up early the next morning. It was still pitch black outside, and the air by the window, where my head lay, was icy cold. <em>Winter...Christmas.<em>

I swallowed and sat up in bed, any lingering dreams crushed by the living nightmare. The envelope with my scholarship letter and syllabus was hidden in the bottom of my suitcase, lying in wait for the time when eventually I would have to acknowledge them again.

_But not now, _I decided, and let myself doze until Madame Esme's signature knock on the door started the real day.

\*\*/*/

People still stared as I headed down to the dining hall. In some ways, it was hard to remember that there had been a whole audience in front of me when Edward had taken my hand and danced with me at the Review. All I could see was him. But there had been hundreds of people there, watching everything unfold. And I had to admit, it was kind of scandalous what had happened. The ballet world doesn't take kindly to improvisation, nor does it particularly like its stars dancing with random nobodies. But it does like a good romance story, apparently, because their stares weren't condescending – not counting the glare from Lauren in the bathrooms – they were curious.

I stifled a yawn as I stood in line for breakfast. My brain had forgotten what it was like waking up any time before nine.

"Good morning!"

I spun around to see Alice bouncing up behind me, Jasper faithfully beside her.

I laughed, "Good morning. Nice outfit."

I swore Alice had a never ending wardrobe. Today, she was in an orange leotard and a tie-dyed white and orange wrap skirt, with white tights and a pair of orange pointe shoes hanging from her hand.

"Why thank you," she said with a little curtsy. "Thought I'd bring a bit of warmth back into Winter. All that black everyone wears; seriously depressing."

Jasper and I exchanged grins, both of us dressed in black leos.

We grabbed our food – even the serving lady had a smile for me – and sat down at the usual table. It was stupid, but I still expected to see Tanya sitting there, gazing over her school, glittering in another one of her gold ensembles...with Edward.

Fortunately, I was taken from such thoughts by the arrival of Emmett and Rosalie, who seemed to have been having an argument. They sat down in their usual seats, but made as big a gap between each other as possible. Emmett looked more desperate than angry, but Rosalie was looking determinedly ahead with folded arms, her red painted lips pursed. "Don't worry," Alice murmured to me with a grin. "Just wait five minutes and they'll be all over each other again." She waved a hand at the two. "This happens _all _the time."

I raised an eyebrow, "Is that healthy?"

Alice sniggered, "Yeah. Relationships are no fun without some drama. It's only natural to spend half the time hating each other. Besides, there will always be disagreements." She looked to Jasper. "Apart from with me and you, right, Jazz?"

"But of course, my little fairy," Jasper said with a grin. "You are in no way stubborn, bossy or over energized."

"And you are _so _not an overperfectionist," Alice retorted, sticking her tongue out.

Jasper folded his arms, "That is not a word."

Alice copied his pose, "It is if I say it is."

Jasper gave a good natured, exasperated sigh and appealed to me, "You see? Stubborn beyond belief."

We all laughed, Alice giving Jasper a light punch on the shoulder in revenge.

"Good morning."

I turned in my seat, that familiar voice sending a pleasant tingle up my spine. Edward was looking perfect as always, in a dark red t-shirt and black trackpants, his Nike sports bag slung over his shoulder and that unforgettable smile on his face.

"Morning," I said, as he leant down to give me a kiss. I smiled against his lips as his hand cupped my neck. I knew we were in the dining hall, but neither of us could pull away. When his lips touched mine it felt like home...

Eventually, someone cleared their throat, and, with one final chaste kiss, Edward sat down next to me.

"You two are worse than us!" Emmett exclaimed. Sure to Alice's prediction, somewhere in the last minute Emmett and Rosalie had somehow regained their love for one another and now Emmett's arm was slung around the back of her chair.

"Late getting up?" I asked as Edward stole some of my fruit salad.

He shook his head. For a moment his eyes turned troubled, "My father called."

I gulped down the strawberry I'd been eating without tasting it, "Is everything okay?"

He nodded, "Just the usual lecture about being so 'nonchalant' about everything and ruining my prospects, even though he hasn't even _seen _you dance."

"Have I?" I asked. "Have I ruined your prospects?"

Edward must have heard the concern in my voice, because he took my hand in both of his and fixed me with his deep green eyes. "Bella," he said intently. It was impossible to look away. "You must promise me you won't worry about this. I don't care what his wishes are; my father will _not _come between us."

Something in his demeanour set off an uneasy feeling in the depths of my mind. As if I should be worrying more than ever. But I bit my lip and nodded.

Edward gave me his smile again, and kissed my pinkie ring. "I had no prospects before you, Bella," he said quietly, tracing the line of my cheek. "None that I wanted."

\*\*/*/

Edward walked me to class. I walked in with what I could only guess was a slightly dazed expression on my face. It was weird and wonderful, having a boyfriend. Aside from a few crushes in elementary school, my romantic score was a lonely zero. To go from that to, well, _Edward Masen_ was kind of a shock. Our relationship was intense and complex to say the least.

Weren't first relationships meant to be silly and awkward, with a really bad kiss at the movies and a text message break up? I guessed that I had seriously missed that boat by five years. But I had no doubt that Edward had had others before me – I couldn't see how he couldn't, considering he was, again, _Edward Masen..._famous, intense and seriously sexy. I must have been one in a long line of girls, surely? Which meant that I was a novice and he was a pro...like in all things.

"Could I just say," Lauren declared loudly from across the room as soon as I'd stepped through the door. "That the dining hall is usually considered a _public _place. Not everyone wants to see you two smooching when they're trying to eat breakfast."

"Yeah," Megan said, sitting in the splits next to Lauren, "It put me _right _off my food."

"_I _think it's sweet!" Eliza said, flicking a meaningful look my way which suggested differently; _I'm defending you against Lauren, but seriously – stop kissing every five seconds._

I gratefully went and sat down next to her and Violet. "Okay, sorry," I said quickly. "I guess we got a little carried away..."

"What?" Violet said. "It _was _sweet! You two are like Romeo and Juliet!"

I raised my eyebrow, "Except that Romeo and Juliet die."

"Apart from that," she said.

Eliza shook her head, "Just promise us you won't forget us amidst all those seniors."

"Never," I promised. For the first time, I realized just how important Violet and Eliza were to me. Edward may have changed everything spectacularly, but Violet and Eliza and Angela – before the accident – had still been the ones to go through it all with me, cheered me up when I felt like crap, eventually sided with me against Lauren, kept in touch when I'd been at home. "That will never happen."

Satisfied, we went on to stretching and warming up. My muscles ached after having just one class yesterday. I knew they would stop hurting once I was fully warm, but at the moment they felt so stiff.

"Good morning class!" Madame Cox strode in. Madame Cox – my technique teacher and co-conspirator in the plot to put me onstage at the Review. It turned out that not all ballet teachers stick so religiously to the rules. She was a great teacher, though, and strict, too.

"Good morning, Madame Cox," we chorused, curtsying.

"Welcome back, Miss Swan," she said, nodding to me. "Are you not en pointe yet?"

"No, ma'am," I said. "Not for a full class."

She frowned, but returned her attention to the class. "Exams are in two weeks. I know these are mid years but the grades you get are still very important. If you receive anything below a three, your position here at _Force _will be reviewed." She clasped her hands together and began pacing, her long black wrap skirt flowing behind her. "A one hour class will take place in which barre, centre and pointe will all be covered. Fouettes, arabesques, pirouettes, jetes – all of the syllabus be perfect, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," we chorused.

"Your variations will be examined separately in groups of three. Any questions?" No one said anything. I got the sense that they had already heard all this before. _How on earth am I going to catch up...and what variation am I going to do? And my ankle..._

"Alright, to the barre, if you please!"

Quickly, I took my place at the barre and we began.

It seemed like everything I did needed correcting. Even my plies had lost posture. "Straighten that leg, Miss Swan," she said, fixing my calf. "And again, battement, and...no, you just lost it again, Miss Swan. Straight! Yes, that's it!"

I felt the sweat beading on my forehead and neck as I worked to fix everything. I was so out of shape. How had I allowed myself to get like this? Why hadn't I done exercises at home? Frustrated with myself, I pushed harder, but still, Madame Cox plied me to change things which usually I didn't even need to think about.

And I wasn't even en pointe yet, and that would lead to a whole new world of mistakes.

What's more, most of our centre time was taken up with rehearsing our variations. We spread out between any free studios, the boys rehearsing one of the Prince's variations from Sleeping Beauty, and the girls rehearsing an allegro from La Bayadere. I followed clumsily along behind Violet and Eliza as they went through the moves with ease. It was no use, though – I couldn't keep up.

By the end of class, I was breathing heavily, out of fatigue and frustration. We took reverence, bowing and curtsying in thanks to Madame Cox, and then I bent over, my hands on my knees, panting. But she wasn't done with me yet. "Miss Swan," she said from the piano. "May I have a word?"

My muscles groaning, I stood back up and went to her.

"I am sorry to be pushing you so hard," she said sincerely, her lined face serious. "I know your injury was through no fault of your own. But exams are so close. We have two weeks to get you caught up on over a month's worth of work. I am happy to give you extra lessons after class, but you must put in the effort. That's going to be hard, just returning from injury, but you must do it."

I nodded, "I know."

Madame Cox smiled, "And I know you can, Miss Swan. You are the girl who managed to change my choreography three times in one day, after all. And one such change occurred in mid performance, I might add..."

I couldn't help but give a nervous grin. Save a nod at the prize giving, Madame Cox and I hadn't had a chance to recap on what had gone on at the Review.

"I'm sorry about everything that happened," I said quietly.

She gazed at me, a twinkle in her eye, "You brought to that piece what a dance teacher cannot teach." She put a hand on my shoulder. "Never lose what you showed everyone on that night, Miss Swan. Even if it means breaking a few rules." She withdrew, "Now, off you go."

With a quick curtsy, I hurried off to gymnastics. Passionate as I was about dance, it didn't helped to alleviate my aching muscles through another hour of jumping and beam exercises.

\*\*/*/

By the time Partnering class came around, I was ready to collapse, preferably into Edward's arms, but yesterday's rules still applied – we couldn't be a couple when Edward was a teacher and I a student. So we made a point of avoiding each other as the class went on. Master Lawson was just as strict as the rest of my teachers, and he demanded a lot of my tired body. Every five seconds there was another order for pulling up, pointing my feet, keeping posture in lifts. The fact that this was my first class en pointe made it even harder. The pain of pointe wasn't usually too much of an issue, but after giving my feet such a long break, the calluses had disappeared, and I could feel blisters forming.

"Masen's giving me daggers," Mike muttered as we finished our combination. I'd mucked up twice in the short distance between the back and front of the studio.

Frowning, I looked at Edward, who was leaning against the piano, eyeing Mike with that hard expression. Feeling my gaze, he looked to me, and gave me a warmer smile. I returned it, though I knew that he was trying to find a way to place all the blame of my mistakes on Mike. A shot of uncertain nerves went through me. _No, _I told myself, _it's my first day back – of course I'm not going to be perfect. Tomorrow, tomorrow will be better._

"Sorry," I said to Mike. "I'll talk to him."

Mike gave me a relieved smile. _Poor Mike..._of course he was afraid of Edward; when Mike had hurt me in my very first Pas de Deux class, Edward had a terrifying rage at him. Anyone would have been scared...I just hoped I never saw Edward angry like that again.

Master Lawson excused us all ten minutes late. Edward and I quickly gathered our stuff and rushed to a smaller studio in the left wing of the second floor. Fortunately, Master Carlisle hadn't arrived yet. We dumped our bags by the door and I slumped against the wall.

Edward laughed and put my slack arms around his waist. Gratefully, I tucked my head into his chest. He gently stroked my hair, "First day back sucks, doesn't it?"

"Hmhm," I hummed, bringing my face up to look at him. "How long until I can call myself a dancer again?"

He grinned. "Don't worry too much – on my first day back, I got so frustrated I kicked Emmett into the mirror for laughing at me."

"What?" I exclaimed.

He nodded, "That's why there's a pane of glass in studio four which looks slightly newer than everything else."

"Did you get in trouble?"

"Oh no," he said. "I just blamed it on my so called 'blundering pig' arabesque and Emmett ended up paying for the glass."

My laugh was interrupted as the door opened to reveal Master Carlisle Cullen, headmaster of _Force, _ex-principal dancer of several different companies, and now, apparently, our new partnering teacher.

It was impossible not to be slightly frightened and slightly in awe of him. He was dressed in a simple white t-shirt and black trackpants. "Good evening," he said to us in his French accent, a smile on his face. "Bella, welcome back."

I smiled, surprised at the use of my first name. But of course, I was no longer a first year; I was Edward's partner. It was that much more important...and that much more terrifying.

Master Carlisle clasped his hands together, and walked toward us. "I promised after the events of the Review that I would teach the two of you how to dance properly as a partnership, yes?"

We nodded. Edward had kept his arm around me, and now he squeezed my waist. _Yes, _I thought. _This is what we wanted...it'll be fine._

Carlisle looked between the two of us. "I will keep true to my promise, but I must warn you that this will be difficult – we have only three periods a week, and you are both at totally different skill levels. You understand that?"

"Yes," Edward replied confidently. I just nodded again. _Stop feeling so stupid...this is no big deal – we are perfect together; nothing can go wrong..._

Carlisle waited a moment, then seemed satisfied. "Good, then," he gestured to the centre of the studio. "Take position. I am going to teach you the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet."

"What?" Edward said, frowning. And I knew why – the balcony scene was infamous for being a massive stretch of endurance. It was long, with a whole load of lifts and turns. _Professionals _had trouble getting through it. And I certainly wasn't a professional.

Carlisle gave us a dry smile, "If you wanted baby classes, Edward, you shouldn't have paired yourself with Miss Swan."

I swallowed. What did he mean?

Fortunately, he explained...but I didn't want to hear his answer. "You have a connection which was strong enough to make you break countless rules, promises, to dance with one another, yes?"

We nodded. At least we could be sure of that...

Carlisle gazed at us, "So if it is that strong, you shouldn't have any problem with taking this on."

"But it's way beyond what Bella has ever done," Edward said. "And me, too," he added. My heart sunk a little further. _If it was with Tanya, there wouldn't be so much of a problem..._

Master Carlisle raised his eyebrow, "Then you will learn, won't you? Now take position, Edward you will be centre, Bella stage right..."

I swallowed and did as directed. Edward and I didn't look at each other as we took our places.

"Now," Carlisle said. "We will add the more solo parts later, for now we begin with the main section of the pas de deux. Edward, we'll go from the third section of your solo..." and then Carlisle launched into the choreography.

Edward followed effortlessly, his arabesques and leaps perfect from the beginning. I watched from the barre as he flew the air and then landed in a quick set of pirouettes. He was the epitome of strength and control, moving easily into the next set of steps. Carlisle called out corrections, which Edward put into action immediately. I had never seen him work before, and now I realized how skilled he was. How knowledgeable. Carlisle treated him as he would a principal dancer, allowing for questions and comments. They worked well together; two great dancers working together...with me. Bella Swan the First Year.

"And that is when Bella enters from upstage," I snapped up from my thoughts. Edward stood there, breathing heavily, smiling at me. I smiled back, then looked to Carlisle. He was already marking out the moves. "Run for four counts, then straight into a set of chaine turns to Edward." Haphazardly, I tried to follow along behind Carlisle as he outlined the steps. "Catch her, then up into arabesque en dehors, then lift, leg front, then back. And then Edward lean her back left, then right. From the beginning, un, deux, trois et..."

Half a beat late, I began a dizzying set of turns toward Edward. I should have been spotting, so I would stay balanced, but Carlisle's orders were so fast I had no chance to think. Then Edward's hands caught me, which I guess was some solace, but I couldn't remember what I was doing.

"En dehors," Carlisle called. Heart already thudding, I drew a big circle with one foot and then brought it round to the back. "And lift..."

Edward lifted me a little into the air, though I felt none of the usual exhilaration. I heard Edward let out a little breath as I clumsily brought my leg forward and back again.

"And down." Edward remembered Carlisle's instructions much better than I did, and easily swept me down into a dip, holding me tightly around the waist as I lay over his arm. This I could do...and then he was pulling me up and over again. I felt so stupid – like a ragdoll. Edward was doing all the work and I couldn't remember a thing...

Carlisle stopped his counting, and Edward pulled me back up.

"Again," Carlisle commanded. I took my position again. It went a little better this time, as I dumbly recalled the movements. But it wasn't fluid. And it wasn't like what Edward was doing, each move precise and correct.

Time ticked on. We didn't do anything but my entrance. I was doing everything wrong. And Carlisle went through it all. Nothing was left unmentioned. Well, at least in my mind. In Carlisle's, I was probably still doing a thousand things wrong.

And then he had to fix the partnering. Once again, the faults were all mine. I wasn't supporting correctly, I wasn't bracing the right muscles, I wasn't giving over enough control. The last criticism struck me as odd – I had never had any trouble giving control completely over to Edward and the music before now. But this was different...this didn't feel like our dancing at all. I didn't even feel any of the excitement Juliet was meant to feel..._I can't even feel Edward,_ I realized as I went back to my starting position for the hundredth time. Apart from the fact that he was incredibly good where I wasn't, I hardly thought of who my partner was. I couldn't focus on anything but myself, for fear of screwing up again.

The time finally reached six thirty. Master Carlisle clapped his hands. "Right, that will be all for this evening," he said. "I will see you both here on Thursday. And Miss Swan, you will be needing a long wrap skirt for next time."

"Yes sir," I said through my laboured breath. "Thank you."

He nodded, "You both worked well today." And then he left.

I bent over fully now, my hands on my knees. I wanted to cry. My eyes had been burning to for so long, but they couldn't. _And they still can't. _Biting my lip, I straightened up again.

"Typical Carlisle," Edward muttered with a smile. I couldn't tell if it was forced or not. But suddenly I felt so embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly. "I'm not used to working so fast..." _I'm just not good enough...not good enough for him..._

"Bella," Suddenly Edward was in front of me, his finger lifting my chin. Just like this morning, I couldn't deny those green eyes. "Carlisle's not someone you can get used to in a single class. He works way too fast, way too hard and way too much, and he never leaves time for compliments." Edward smiled at me, "But then you get to the end of it and you realize that he's had his faith in you the entire time, because we will be amazing."

I rested my hands on his chest. Even in despair, I couldn't help but feel his warmth, his confidence in us. "It didn't feel like it usually did."

He nodded, brushing a stray hair from my forehead, "I think that was Carlisle's intention. But...If you're not too tired," his eyes glinted as he stepped back and held his hand out. "Would you do the honour of dancing with me, Miss Swan?"

I grinned, then curtsied, "But of course, good sir."

And then no more words needed to be spoken. Without the main lights on, the studio was darker, and in only a little time, those first few notes were dropping onto the piano keys, and Edward was behind me. I lay my head back against his chest, letting myself attune to him once more. His breath touched my hair, his arms held me around the waist, gentle yet strong. There was no rush now...no worry. Just us and the music.

Gently, I rose onto pointe, the first few bars repeating. My arms rose with me, floating up from my sides. I stepped forward, then turned. Edward's hand awaited me, and I delicately rested my fingers in his palm, and raised my leg up behind me. There was no thought of falling off balance – that couldn't happen, not with us.

The music gave a gentle push forward again. Smoothly, Edward turned me into him, leaning me against his chest and wrapping his arms tight around my own. My eyes flickered shut, and I knew his were too. I felt so safe, in his strong embrace...but then the music struck a sadder chord, and I was forced to step away from him, tiptoeing en pointe backwards, my hands still outstretched, wanting with all my heart to stay. But the piano said differently, and so we turned from each other, our fingertips finally parting.

Alone, I stretched my hand up to the darkness, wishing for his return.

A lighter chord sounded, and we turned, finding each other again. But the music was still tentative...one step closer...and then another...

And then the music surged into its tumbling chorus notes, and Edward and I were touring the room, flying free, his hands lifting and turning me. We leapt as one. Joy sung in my heart as we soared, the music growing and growing...

And then it lowered again, and we found ourselves back in the middle, at the beginning. Edward slowly turned me, making me as delicate as the notes themselves. And as they reached their final flourish, we stood chest to chest, perfectly aligned. I looked up, into his calm eyes. It wasn't so much a conscious look we gave now, but something deeper...inexplicable. The last note faded, and our lips gently touched.

In a scene which should have been perfection, I had the painful sense, beneath the calm and beauty, that this was perhaps the last time it would ever be like this.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter two of The Short Sugar Plum Fairy is up!<strong>

**SSPF is a prequel to Pas de Trois and Clair de Lune, involving a very short, pixielike danseuse and a very smexy Russian danseur!**

**Please read! Hope to get up the next chapter for that very soon!**

**Anyways, please review!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

Hello!

Sorry for the late update, but don't worry, the next chapter just needs a teensy bit of tweeking and it'll be up!

**Thank you so much for your reviews!**

**They make all the difference and I just really love to know what you think of all the goings on at my crazy ballet academy!**

**Cheers!**

Alright, without further ado...

**Please review!**

**And enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Gamzatti Variation from Le Corsaire by a Mister Jules-Henri Vernoy de Saint-Georges<em>**  
><strong>

_Thepianoguys - amazing YouTube channel! Check them out!_

* * *

><p>"You missed the arabesque," Carlisle informed me blankly as I stood gasping for breath next to Edward. It was late – we had probably already missed dinner, which meant another night of microwave meals in the Senior Common room, nursing our sore muscles.<p>

"Sorry," I breathed, and went back to my position for the beginning of the section. It was Sunday night – almost two weeks after I had returned to _Force. _We had finally completed the outline of the choreography, but Carlisle was still having to teach me how to perform the lifts, and we had yet to perform the whole piece right through – my endurance wasn't good enough yet. Halfway through, and my legs would start faltering and I could hardly breathe. Even Edward was having problems with it.

It didn't exactly help that exams were tomorrow, and every evening when I wasn't with Edward and Master Carlisle I was having privates with Madame Cox to get me up to speed with the rest of my class. I was so worn out...not that it was any excuse. Professionals went through a lot more. I just had to toughen up.

The music started up, and I spun haphazardly into Edward's arms. "And arabesque – no," Master Carlisle pressed stop and came over to us. "You turn, and then leg up on the fourth count." He quickly marked it in front of me. "Without music – five, six, seven, eight."

I went into the step, but Edward didn't bother to lift his hands to hold me.

"It's the left leg, Bella," Edward said wearily. I glanced at him. His brow was covered in sweat, and his eyes were tired. I knew that the last thing he needed right now, on top of exams and his father, was having to waste valuable rest time waiting for me to work out my right from my left. And his father was being hard on him – some mornings Edward didn't even get to breakfast in time because his father was in one of his lectures. I wondered why Edward didn't just hang up on him, but I guessed that Edward was trying to resolve it, rather than ignore it.

I had made so many mistakes so many times that I no longer had a flush of embarrassment or a voice in my head telling me to kick into gear and start working. I didn't really think of anything now...I just repeated the moves again and hoped for the best.

Like right now, as I once again turned toward Edward and lifted my right leg – "Shit," I muttered, dropping out of the step. I heard Edward sigh behind me, but didn't bother to look. Once more, I went back to my position...

I turned again, careful this time that it was my left leg which lifted. But then I forgot to brace. Edward tried to lift me, but I wasn't prepared, and I slipped through his arms. With a grunt, Edward grabbed me, saving me from twisting my ankle again.

I swore under my breath again, and Edward turned away, pushing his fingers through his hair.

"That's enough for tonight," Master Carlisle said swiftly, "I will see you on Tuesday night, after exams, oui?"

We both recovered enough to nod. Carlisle just looked between us. There was something sad in his eyes...but then it was gone, and so was he.

The door swung shut, and neither of us said a word. After our first few rehearsals, we had delved into that special store of energy and danced freely again, letting ourselves go. But I sensed that tonight there would be none of that – neither of us had the strength. Quietly, we packed up our bags. I tugged at the knot of my pointe shoe. Sick of being treated so, the ribbon ripped off the seam. I sighed, giving up, and bent over, resting my forehead on my ankles.

_This isn't working...this just isn't working..._

I stayed like that a while, hiding in the dark cave of my legs and the floor.

"Come on," Edward said eventually. His voice was gentle. Slowly, I uncurled myself and stood. Silently, Edward handed my ballet bag to me. I pulled off my pointes and put them in with the rest of my stuff. I didn't feel like being a dancer at the moment, I really didn't. Calc and Trig were so much easier...

We didn't touch as we walked to the Senior Common room. Honestly, I wanted to be alone, but there was only one place with food.

It was later than I'd thought – the common room was empty, save a couple of girls who were on their way out with mugs of cocoa.

_I have an exam tomorrow, _I thought dully as I dumped my bag on the floor and went into the minikitchen. I was too tired to worry. Whatever happened, happened.

"Pasta?" I asked Edward, already getting the microwave packages out of the fridge.

"Sure," he muttered, finding some cutlery.

We were almost used to this routine now, except we had never been so fed up before. As I pressed the buttons of the microwave, I couldn't help but think...think about going to Aro's. I still hadn't told Edward...because I didn't want to lose what precious time we had. But now not telling him was just causing more problems. If I told him then we could stop these pointless pas de deux classes, and he could go back to dancing with someone good enough for him. I looked out the window. Snow was drifting down. Christmas was close; school finished at the end of the week, after all the exams were over. If I told him now...even though it was still so late, at least it would be better than telling him just before I left...

I took our meals out of the microwave and we sat down on the couch by the fire...at opposite ends.

"Edward..." I said quietly, picking at my food. "What do you think of Aro Colaianni's?"

He suddenly froze and looked up at me, his eyes alert, "Why?"

I looked down at my knees..._okay, just ease into it_...quickly, I put my plate down on the coffee table. I seriously did not feel like eating... "I'm...I was just thinking about the Review. They seemed okay, the ones I met."

"They're not," he said bluntly.

I frowned, not sure what to make of his abrupt contradiction, "Have you had much to do with them?"

He looked away from me, that vein in his jaw pulsing out like it always did when he was tense. "More than I'd care to."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He rubbed his chin, then looked at me agitatedly, "It doesn't matter. It's just not a legitimate school, Bella. Stay away from it."

We sat in silence for a moment. I wrapped my arms around my knees. Edward's vehement hatred toward them had stunned me...and scared me. There was no way I could tell him tonight – _"Hey Edward, instead of staying away from it, I'm ditching _Force _and going to spend the rest of my ballet education at Aro Colaianni's!" _I swallowed, feeling sick with myself. Somehow this had turned into an even bigger mess than it had been when I'd opened that envelope in Forks. If I'd just told him as soon as I'd found out...

I bit my lip and looked at the ring on my pinkie finger. The tiny blue sapphires winked at me in the firelight. I had hardly taken it off...and I never wanted to. I didn't want to leave, and I wanted Edward to know that. But by not telling him, I was cheating him, and I felt as though he would think that I didn't _care_ enough to tell him. But telling him now just wasn't possible...I shut my eyes. These thoughts were too confusing...I just wanted to sink into the darkness and never come back out.

But then there was a gentle touch on my arm. "Bella," Edward's voice was soft. I slowly opened my eyes to find him kneeling in front of me, looking up at me with concern in his eyes, just as open as they had been shut off and unreadable two minutes ago. "Are you okay?"

I blinked back the tears he could not be allowed to see, and nodded, "It's just been a long few days."

He took my hand in his own. We both watched as our fingers entwined, "I'm sorry for losing my temper in rehearsal," he said quietly. He looked at me. "I don't doubt us...not for a single second. It's just different to what I'm used to."

"Tanya knew a lot more than I do," I muttered, looking at our hands.

"She did," he conceded. "But what she knew, you can learn...what we have, no one could learn, Bella. It can only ever be you, Bella."

My heart thudded, "Those are dangerous words." My voice was no more than a whisper.

Edward just shook his head, and leant up until we were eye level. His hand stroked my cheek, his deep green eyes held my gaze. "I don't care."

In that moment, the thought of leaving him threatened to tear me apart. In a split second, I had brought my lips to his, desperate to feel them, just once more.

There was only a second of surprise before Edward met my desperation with equal need, pulling himself up onto the couch, never breaking the kiss. His hands ran down my arms, my fingers tangled in his hair. Again and again, our lips met. The warmth of his body against mine felt unquestionably right..._how could I ever go? _My mind cried. We fell backwards on the couch, until I was pressed into the cushions, each line of Edward's body against my own. _I can't leave him...I can't_. I pulled him closer, smothering the painful thought with his warm lips.

Eventually, and regrettably, we had to come up for air. Edward held me close as we regained our composure, our breathing so loud in the quiet room.

"I meant it, Bella," he whispered, brushing a piece of stray hair from my face. His deep eyes watched me carefully. "I don't care about what we have to do, or what anyone else says," with a sick feeling in my stomach I knew he meant his father. "Bella," he said, stroking my cheek to regain my attention. "None of it matters. You're the only one."

He said it with such vehemence that I could believe him...almost. But I could not give him any answer. So I just kissed him, this time slowly, and I prayed he couldn't feel the 'goodbye' in it. Then I tucked my head into his chest, letting my stupid, troublesome world go to darkness. He wrapped his arms around me, holding me in his strong, perfect embrace.

It was like that that I drifted off into a blissful sleep.

\*\*/*/

I woke to find the pale rays of morning coming through the window. At some point in the night, one of us had pulled a throw rug over our legs, and now I lay with my head on his chest, Edward's arm wrapped protectively around my waist.

It felt odd, and yet so...nice waking up at his side. I watched his face as he slept, his chest rising and falling gently under my hand. His features were so calm, without his usual intensity or concern or concentration. The only time I had ever seen him even close to this was when he let himself dance freely. Only then had I seen a similar serenity, when all his troubles left him.

An involuntary smile crept to my lips as his arm tightened around me, only to found that I had moved. Slowly, he rose from sleep. "Morning," he said quietly, looking at me through half opened eyes. His smile matched my own.

"Morning," I replied.

"Esme's not going to be happy," he said, sitting up to give me a kiss.

"Oh shit!" I cursed, suddenly pulling back. "Exams!"

We looked at each other for only a split second before both leaping up.

"It's seven thirty," Edward said, already grabbing his bag. "Fifteen minutes until class."

"Shit!" I said again. _I am a total idiot!_

We set off at a run. Edward was lucky – his bedroom was just down the corridor. We said goodbye there, and I kept running. "Good luck!" he called to me.

"You too!" I replied. "Not that you'll need it!"

There were already people coming up to classes for extra warm up time, all dressed in their nicest leotards with perfect hair and nervous smiles. Of course, those expressions changed when they saw a bedraggled Bella Swan charging past them. How could I have forgotten my _exams!_

I ran up the grand staircase, trying not to slip in my stocking feet. I reached my dorm, and quickly sifted through my trunk for a new pair of tights and a plain black leo. Then, of course, there was my hair. I dove into the bathroom. I extracted what seemed like hundreds of bobby pins from my ruined bun and then yanked my brush through it. On Saturday, Madame Cox had given us a whole lecture on appearance and how important it was to be clean, neat, and unobtrusively dressed. It went without saying, really, in the ballet world. But usually there was more _time..._

After dousing my new bun in a thick cloud of hairspray, I gave myself a quick once-over in the mirror. It was okay – I looked like a dancer...but my mind was still made of mush.

I put my slippers on in the dorm, then ran out into the corridor, just as Madame Esme reached the landing, that ominous clicking of her stilettos telling me this wasn't good news. "Miss Swan," she said cuttingly. "Where were you last night?"

"I'm sorry," I said, bouncing on the balls of my feet, needing to go. "I fell asleep in the senior common room..."

She raised an eyebrow, "That was not very responsible of you, was it?"

"No," I said quickly. _I have to get to my exam! _I wanted to shout, but then I realized that she knew, and she was just making a point.

"Detention tomorrow, after exams are over. Now you'd better hurry."

"Thank you, ma'am," I breathed, and then ran.

"You are ten minutes late, Miss Swan," Master Carlisle said blankly as I burst into the studio. My class looked up from their positions at the barres. Eliza gave me an incredulous look, Lauren just sniggered.

"I'm sorry, sir," I said, catching my breath.

Then Madame Cox came up and led me a spot at the barre. "Don't worry," she said quietly. "The exam proper hasn't started yet, you've missed warm up time, though. There's only about five minutes. Just calm yourself, stretch a bit, you'll be fine."

I nodded. Now that I was here, the nerves hit me full on – this was my midterm...these grades were important. And I had turned up _late..._

Madame Cox handed me a number, thirteen, which I quickly pinned onto my leotard. As I began to stretch, I looked at the examiners. Master Carlisle sat in the middle, flanked by a straight-faced Master Hinde and another man who I didn't know. He was rather rotund, with balding hair and a slightly snobbish expression. He must have been the outside examiner.

They were all seated behind a long table, with neatly piled papers and crystal jugs of water in front of them, quietly writing in their fountain pens. Looking at them, I doubted much had changed since the days of Marcus Vigernon and his first students. Ballet was that kind of an art – its basics hadn't changed since the seventeenth century, when the five basic positions had been decided upon. And still, what were we trying to achieve? Line, beauty, grace – that was just what they had been striving for since King Louis' days.

Faces and technology may change, but we were still having to live up to the standards of four centuries ago. We still had to continue on the goal of perfection that none of us would ever reach.

The thought put me into a more focussed mindset.

"Two minutes until we begin, students," Master Carlisle announced from the front.

I put my leg up onto the barre and releved, still trying to get my breath back. Fortunately, my running around had at least warmed me up a bit, and so my muscles weren't as stiff as they usually were at the beginning of a warm up. That was my one saving grace, since I only did a couple more stretches before Master Carlisle stood up.

"Students, if you would like to take any warm up clothing off now. Monsieur Shapel," he nodded to the outside examiner. "If you would like to proceed."

The portly man nodded and gestured to Mister Woolston, our pianist, and the exam started.

My nerves thrummed in me. "Petit plies," the man instructed in a thick French accent. "And five, six, seven, and..."

Plies – not exactly the hardest thing in the world to do, but somehow I had another surge of nerves as I went down into my first one. Everything needed to be my best...and after only two weeks, there weren't any guarantees...

Still, the exam went on without fault. Thanks to Master Carlisle and Madame Cox's privates, I didn't feel as helpless as I had two weeks ago. Still, I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if I hadn't messed up my ankle.

There were no surprises – it ran as a normal class, except that it was Monsieur Shapel giving the movements, whilst Madame Cox just stood by the piano and nodded, watching us all intently. She didn't betray any emotion – I only hoped that that meant we were doing alright.

Centre was scarier, as we were in groups of only three or four, and you were far more aware of the eyes of the examiners on you, watching for every single detail.

We took reverence at the end, standing in straight lines, girls at the front, boys at the back. Breathing hard, we bowed and curtsied to the panel, and then quickly left. The three examiners were already conferring as we left. I wanted to grab that assessment sheet out of their hands and see my score...but I doubted that would be a very good idea.

"Where the heck were you last night, Bella?" Eliza demanded once we were out. Her face glistened with sweat, "I mean, it was the night before _exams!"_

"I was with Edward," I muttered tiredly. My tummy rumbled. I wasn't a huge fan of dancing on a full stomach anyway, but I remembered that I hadn't eaten dinner last night, either.

"Waaaaait," Violet said, bouncing along on my other side. "You mean, like, all night?"

"Woah, what?" Eliza exclaimed, stopping in the corridor.

Violet grabbed my arm, "What was it _like?"_

"Violet!" Eliza chastised.

"No, no, no," I said quickly. "Not like that. We just fell asleep after rehearsal."

"In his _bed?" _Violet pressed.

"No!" I had to laugh, "In the Senior Common Room."

She shrugged, a mischievous grin on her face. "I guess it doesn't matter _where, _just who _with."_

"You're terrible," I said, smiling, though I was silently thanking God that my face was already flushed from the exam.

* * *

><p><strong>So...next chapter should be up within...well, not more than 24 hours, and it's going to be...interesting. Hehe.<strong>

**Please review! Let me know what you think of all the goings on! And what's with Edward? Hmmm?**

**Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

Hello, hello!

Told you I'd be back!

**Here it is! Chapter Five!**

**Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed!**

**I love reading what you think! You inspire me, so thank you!**

So, please tell me what you think this time!

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Gamzatti Variation from Le Corsaire by a Mister Jules-Henri Vernoy de Saint-Georges<em>

_Exile - Enya...because I was feeling really nervous :D_

* * *

><p>The morning wore on. Eliza, Violet and I managed to sneak down to the dining hall and grab some fruit before our pointe exam, so I didn't starve. After pointe was character, and then there was a short break before character.<p>

There were a couple of different external examiners, and either Madame Esme or Master Carlisle were in each of my exams. The external examiners didn't scare me as much as they did. It was one thing embarrassing yourself of total strangers who you'd never see again, but in front of the people who taught you, who knew your capabilities and your personality and who you would certainly see again...that was hard. Still, they kept me on my toes...

By the time lunch came around, I thought my face might drop off from the way it had been mashed in concentration. I wanted to just curl up on my bed and sleep, preferably after a foot rub and spa bath, but that wasn't going to happen. _Besides, _I thought, spotting Alice further back in the line, _I need some answers._

I excused myself from Eliza and Violet and went to Alice. It was weird, seeing her in a plain black leotard and pink tights...but then I looked down – her shoes weren't the normal soft pink; they were fuchsia.

"Like 'em?" Alice said with a smile. "'cause Mistress Esme seriously didn't."

I couldn't help but laugh, "Understandable."

She shrugged, "I made a compromise to dress 'properly' on exam days, but she can't deny me just one _teeny _show of individuality. Anyways, how's things? And did you happen to have anything to do with Edward bursting into his exam ten minutes late looking like a drowned rat?"

_At least he'd had time for a shower, _I thought enviously. "I might have," I admitted.

"Woooah!" Alice exclaimed. _Here we go again... _"You mean you...?" She grabbed my shoulders and stared at me with wide, excited eyes. "Do I need to give you the 'talk', Bella Swan?"

"No! Late rehearsal, fell asleep, no alarm," I rattled off in note-form. _Why does _everyone_ jump to _that_ conclusion?_

Alice raised a suspicious eyebrow, but dropped it, "Okay...anyway, what's up?"

I sobered a little, "You know the whole Aro thing?"

Alice's eyes brightened, "You've told him? 'Cause he seems to have taken it quite well..."

"I haven't," I said ashamedly.

Alice's expression, usually so light, turned disapproving, "Bella, you need to tell him! It's been two weeks and you're not coming back after Christmas!"

"I know," I said. "But I tried to tell him last night and as soon as I mentioned Aro's he got all...weird..."

"Ah," Alice bit her lip and looked away, "That's understandable."

"Why?" I asked, thankful she knew.

She ran a hand through her hair. "He's...he's got enemies at Aro's."

"Enemies?" I repeated.

She nodded, distractedly taking a plate of salad, "See, being the best student danseur in the country means that everyone is out to beat you."

"Right," I said. "So he has competition there?"

"More than that," she said. "Aro Colaianni's is host to the only person who's ever bettered Edward Masen in dancing. Jacob Black."

"I've never heard of him," I said, frowning.

"You will," Alice said. "He is incredibly good. He was trained by the same teacher Edward was trained by, back in Chicago."

"Really?" I said. "They must know each other well, then."

Alice nodded, "They do, very well, I think. Before they both moved off to academies, they were friends. And they stayed friends right up until the NFSI at the end of their first years."

"NFSI?"

"National Ballet Federation's Summer Intensive," Alice explained. "It's _the _summer intensive for the best students in the country and often abroad. You rehearse a major production for a few weeks and then tour the country. Happens once every year, hosted by one of the top academies – so, _Force, _Aro's or the USB. In Edward and Jacob Black's first year it was hosted here, at _Force._

"I wasn't there," she smiled. "We're not _all _superstars, and besides, Jasper invited me to Russia for the holidays..." She looked away in a little dream for a second, then returned to the topic. "Anyway, basically Jacob got the role that they'd been competing for, but then he got injured and Edward had to replace him, and I _guess_ Jacob got all angry and betrayed because Edward had stolen his role and all the glory. Honestly, Bella, I don't know what really went on - Edward doesn't talk about it, but I think it must have been more than just injuries and understudies. They hate each other. All I know is that ever since, Jacob's been trying to beat Edward in competitions and auditions and anything he can."

"But he hasn't?"

Alice shook her head, handing me a glass of grapefruit juice, "Nope, not yet. But when I say 'trying', I mean using every dirty trick in the book to get ahead. Bribery, rumours, whatever he can."

I frowned, "Isn't his dancing good enough?" We started heading for our empty table.

Alice shrugged, "God knows what goes on in that guy's head. Still, Edward's managed to keep ahead, but they hate each other. And I think that Edward feels betrayed, in a way, because Jacob was once his really good friend, and now he's a total bastard."

"Hence his reaction to talking about Aro's," I murmured, nodding.

We sat down. I sighed, "Great. So not only do I have to tell him that I'm leaving _Force, _but that I'm going to the school his arch enemy goes to."

"Bella, it doesn't matter that you're going to Aro's. Seriously, it's not like you're magically going to become a female version Jacob Black. Edward won't mind," Alice patted my hand. "But he _will _mind if you don't tell him you're going. If you don't explain yourself."

I put my fingers to my temples, "I'll tell him as soon as I see him..."

"It should be after exams," Alice suggested. She hesitated, "He might not...take it well."

"Right," I said.

We spent the rest of lunch talking about the horrors of exams, though my mind was still whirring with what Alice had told me. I had always seen Edward as the best...I'd never even considered that he might have close competition. Or that his competition would be so...well, competitive.

Jasper arrived shortly after to tell us that Edward and Emmett were sorting out their pas de deuxs with Rosalie before last period. Despite my mood, I almost smiled at this – even if our own partnering was in tatters, Edward had been clear that dancing with Rosalie was like 'waltzing with barbed wire – one foot wrong and she wounds'.

When the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch, I grabbed my gear and headed for my next exam; repertoire.

As I hurriedly up the grand staircase, I tried to push all thoughts of Edward and this Jacob guy and Aro's to the back of my mind and focus on my exam.

I had extra reason to be nervous because this exam was just me dancing alone, without the others dancing the same combination around you. It meant that you couldn't cheat a glance their way if you forgot your moves..._not that I will forget anything, _I thought determinedly.

Master Carlisle was once again sitting at the centre of the examination table, fountain pen at the ready. He was joined by a sharp faced woman I'd had in my character exam and Master Hinde sat on his right again. Madame Cox was standing in the corner, and she gave me a nod as I came in.

Though we were dancing individually, the exams were in groups of three. Selene was warming up in the far corner, and a girl from Master Rodriguez's class came in shortly after.

As in all the exams, we had ten minutes to warm up and get ready. Already reasonably warm, I pulled on my pointes and then pulled on my dark blue practise tutu. I rehearsed a few of the turns and port de bras, making sure I was used to the extra fourteen inches sticking out from my waist. Then I marked out the steps, reminding myself of all the notes Madame Cox had given me. When I needed to support more, jump higher, relax my leg...

The variation itself was less than two minutes long, but it wasn't easy, despite the delightful music which suggested a joyous, carefree day frolicking in the meadows – or around an Indian court, since that was where it was set. There were a lot of jumps, and some pretty precise turns. I was doing okay, though; Madame Cox had taught me well. It wasn't going to be a heart wrenching solo, but I knew that most of what the examiners were marking on was technique, and Madame Cox had gone over it all thoroughly, and assured me that I should nail it.

"Alright, Ladies," Master Carlisle said, looking down at his papers. "The order is as follows – number twenty eight, seven, and then thirteen. So...Miss Goodwin, if you would like to take your place."

The girl from Mister Rodriguez's class went to the middle, her tutu bouncing with each step. She looked nervous. Selene and I stood to the side to watch. The girl nodded to Madame Cox, who pressed play. She was good, executing all the moves well. There were a few shaky moments, when she didn't quite finish a turn, but it was a good performance, with smiles in all the right places.

She finished with the final flourish of her hand, and Master Carlisle nodded, "Thank you, Miss Goodwin. Now, Miss Beggs."

I gave Selene a quick smile as she took off her shrug and tiptoed into the centre. She got into position, one foot pointed out. She was about to nod to Madame Cox when the door flew open.

"Carlisle." A tall, terrifying man stood in the doorway. He was middle-aged, maybe in his early fifties, wearing an expensive-looking grey business suit and a dark blue tie. His face was wrinkled, but it still suggested he'd been handsome when he was younger. But that was not what scared me. It was that impossible familiarity...

"Anthony?" Master Carlisle had stood up. "What are you doing here?"

"Father, stop this," Edward pushed into the room, grabbing hold of the man's arm. His face betrayed anger which I'd only seen on a few occasions.

_Anthony, _my mind whispered, _Anthony Masen..._

Edward's father shook his hand off distractedly, "Be quiet, Edward." He looked to Carlisle. "I need to speak with you, now."

"This is entirely against protocol, Anthony," Master Carlisle replied. "We are in the middle of an exam."

"No, Carlisle. What is entirely against protocol is pairing up my son with a power-seeking first year girl."

I wanted to sink into a hole right there and then. Edward looked at me, apology clear on his face. I just swallowed and looked on.

"Anthony," said Carlisle, trying to bring his voice down. "This is hardly the time or place. I would be happy to discuss this later with you, in private."

But Mister Masen shook his head, "You misunderstand me. I have travelled all the way from Chicago to sort this damn thing out. I am not spending tens of thousands of dollars a year so that my son can waste his time dancing with someone so inexperienced!"

"You haven't even seen her dance!" Edward exclaimed.

"Well where is she then, Edward?" he said. "Because you have been saying that for months and yet I still have no evidence."

Edward only glanced at me, and I knew it was only accidental, but Mister Masen had already turned around. Now his harsh gaze fell directly onto me. I wanted to run from it – already I felt my back pressing against the ballet barre, my fingers grasping the wood. Edward's father looked me up and down slowly, then said, "She has none of Tanya's stature." He didn't even bother looking at my face.

"God!" Edward exclaimed. "You don't know the first thing about ballet, father!"

"I know that I spoke to Helen Fortescue last night, and she says this is absolutely inappropriate."

Edward recoiled, "Helen Fortescue? You talked to that _bitch?"_

"She understands your priorities," Mister Masen replied.

I didn't need much to remember who Helen Fortescue was. After Edward had been injured in First Year, she'd been the one who came, at his father's request, and told him that he shouldn't be thinking about ballet as being emotional, or passionate, because he would never become great that way. When he'd spoken of her, it had been with just as much hate as he spoke now.

"_I _understand my priorities," Edward snapped, his eyes flaming. Edward was tall, but his father matched him. And Mister Masen was unmistakeably the more powerful of the two. "I can make my own decisions!"

"You clearly can't," his father snarled back. "Or you wouldn't have chosen _her – "_

"You haven't even seen us dance yet!" Edward shouted.

"Then dance!" his father replied. And then his eyes were back on me. "Go on, dance. Show me why I am spending thousands of dollars for you!"

I froze, not able to speak or move. He wanted me to dance? Right now?

"Anthony," Carlisle spoke up again. "This is totally inappropriate, you need to leave."

"No, Carlisle," Mister Masen said, eyeing me. "If the girl is worthy of my son, then she can dance right now."

Edward had recoiled. He looked from me to his father, "I meant as a pas de deux, father."

"No," Mister Masen replied. "She can't hide behind you, Edward. You make any dancer look acceptable. She must dance alone."

"This is ludicrous," Carlisle said. "You cannot expect that of any dancer."

"Why not?" he retorted. "This is a repertoire examination, is it not? She can dance what she was going to dance anyway."

"That is not the point, Anthony. You cannot expect Bella to simply be able to dance under this kind of pressure, at your beck and call. It is completely inappropriate and – "

"I'll do it."

I had hardly been able to push the words out of my mouth, but now they hung in the air, and everything was silent.

"Bella..." Carlisle began.

"No," I said, then quickly forced myself into the centre, so that they wouldn't see my nerves. Edward looked at me incredulously, but I told him through my eyes to trust me.

_I have to do this. _Because Edward's father is right – this was the way to prove myself. The only way. I had to dance...without Edward there to catch me. That was the only way I could prove myself to his father...to him...and to myself. This was what Edward had been saying all along – that if only his father could see me dance, he would understand.

That connection Edward and I had seemed strong now, and he understood. Slowly, he nodded, telling me he knew why I had to do it.

I blinked, took a deep breath, and got into position. _Turn out, legs straight, support..._ I looked to Madame Cox. With a nod of her head, she pressed play.

The music took me off guard. It was happy and bouncy. I missed the first beat, and clumsily made up for it, raising my arm jerkily.

_Come on, Bella! Focus...one two three, one two three... _I jumped, feeling my landing hard in my heel. _And turn..._I came up onto my pointe and down, turning as I went. _The arms...and then developpe..._my leg came out it more of a kick that a dance move. _Come on..._I lightly ran, then leapt again.

_Feel the beat...you're out of time, out of time...dance back, one foot behind the other..._I turned en pointe, my leg sticking out shakily behind me. _And run..._I stiffly hurried to the other side of the stage. _Okay, and now...now chaines..._I swallowed and started the turns. _Step, turn, step, _I spun, trying to spot a place on the wall.

But then Mister Masen was right below it, his expression dark.

_Oh God! _I stumbled, falling off my pointe. My arms shot out as I tried to steady myself. But now the music had gone off without me. It felt like hours, not seconds, as I stood there, still trying to balance, working out where the music was. I caught onto a part. _Okay..._I leapt again, once again the landing sounded hard on the wooden floor.

_And now...and now..._I lost my place again, doing pirouettes when I was meant to be doing something else. But I still couldn't remember..._just improvise, just keep turning..._I leapt as I thought I heard a familiar part. But not being prepared, it was even sloppier than the rest, and I fell forward as I landed..._Come on!_ _The ending...here's the end! _I went up onto pointe, raised my back leg..._arms up!_

The music played its definitive end beats and I came down, one foot back, and raised my palm in a shaky, defeated ending.

I held it for a second, not knowing what to do. The studio was dead silent. No one wanted to say anything. Nothing was worth saying.

Mister Masen cleared his throat, "My point is proven."

The room seemed to erupt into talk. "You couldn't have expected her to dance her best with that pressure!" Edward snapped.

"It was unfair, Anthony," Carlisle agreed. "And completely unprofessional. This is not a place for such things..."

I tuned out as a hand went on my back. I looked to find Madame Cox there.

"I did crap," I whispered blankly.

She said nothing, just led me to the barre, out of the centre. My hands clawed into the wood now, and I stared out the window. Snow fell outside. Selene came and patted me on the shoulder. "It was fine, Bella."

But me, her, Madame Cox and everyone in whole damned room knew that it had been appalling.

"Thank you, Miss Beggs," Madame Cox said, a clear message to leave me be. "Bella," she said quietly, but with so much intensity that I had to look at her. Her lined eyes were imploring. "You must show a strong face, now more than ever."

Stiffly, I nodded. She was right. My breathing harsh, I turned toward the people who were trying to deny what was so obvious; that I wasn't worthy of Edward.

_Strong face...be strong...just be strong..._

I tried to stand up straight, but it was just at that moment that the door opened again.

It was Mrs Cope, the receptionist, standing there with a frenzied expression. It was almost comical, since one piece of her frizzy red hair had escaped her bun and now hung in front of her eyes. But she didn't seem to care.

"Mister Cullen," she said.

"What is it, Shelley?" Carlisle said, alarmed. Everyone had gone quiet again, surprised by the intrusion.

"I'm sorry, sir, but there's been a phone call from Caius Volturi...asking about Miss Swan's enrolment into Aro Colaianni's."

* * *

><p><strong>Please review! Tell me what you think!<strong>

**Thanks for reading**


	6. Chapter 6

Hello!

So glad to be able to get this out to you - and at a semi-reasonable hour, too!

**The reviews I got for the last chapter were absolutely amazing and so helpful!**

**Thank you for all your insight, tips, opinions and encouragement!**

So, please review!

**And Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Hello, Lithium, Listen to the Rain, Angle of Mine, Forgive Me, Good Enough, Last Song, My Immortal - all of course Evanescence :D<em>

_I Will Be Waiting - Kelly Sweet_

* * *

><p>"What?" Edward said, frowning. He didn't look at me, but at Mrs Cope. As if there had been some sort of a mistake.<p>

Nervous with the attention, Mrs Cope looked down at her post-it note. "He was, uh, asking for us to send through her reports so that they could work out class placement."

Edward laughed. He _laughed... _"Caius has got to be kidding. That's low, even for him."

"Let me see, Shelley," said Carlisle, standing up.

She handed him the note, and looked over his shoulder anxiously, "There was also a question about the time of arrival...and something about how Miss Swan had missed one of the signature boxes on a form..."

Carlisle just nodded, still reading. His brow furrowed. Eventually, he looked up. "Miss Swan," he said to me. "Is this true? Are you enrolled at Aro Colaianni's?"

"Carlisle..." Edward began incredulously, but Master Carlisle gestured for him to wait.

I had been frozen since the moment Mrs Cope had said those words, rooted to the floor, viewing the scene in front of me as if from above. As if it wasn't my lies they were unfolding. _I have to answer..._some voice in my head said. _Answer..._

My breath felt short, my throat tight. Everyone was watching me. I knew Edward was wondering why I was taking so long to say 'no'. I forced myself to swallow. The words came out hoarse. "I am."

Edward's face, so confident and assured, fell then, and he just stared at me, disbelief in those eyes.

"Absolutely ridiculous," announced Mister Masen. "I knew she was untrustworthy."

"Shut up, father," Edward snapped, not moving his gaze from me. Slowly, it became colder, as the surprise wore off and the betrayal and pain came in. He looked at me as if he didn't know me anymore.

I wanted to look away. I wanted to run. But I couldn't. I couldn't stop staring at him. I knew my eyes showed no apology. No sadness. Just...blankness. Frozen. Because my entire world was falling apart...and that was too much for any one emotion.

Master Carlisle cleared his throat, "I believe this examination will have to be postponed. Apologies," he directed this to the external examiner, as well as Selene and Master Rodriguez's student. Then he looked to me and held the door open, "Miss Swan."

Some part of me was obviously stronger than the rest, because I managed to move to pick up my bag and walk to the door. I hesitated as I passed Edward, but he didn't move. He just stood ramrod straight, not looking at me. I wanted to throw my arms around him and tell him I was sorry...and for him to tell me that it was okay. That we'd get through this...but I was an idiot to think that could ever happen.

I gritted my teeth together against the pain blossoming in my chest and followed Master Carlisle out the door.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered as we walked. I felt as though if I spoke properly, nothing would stop the emotions which were now raging to push through, and make me lose all control.

"We all have our reasons for doing things," Master Carlisle said calmly.

I didn't need to ask where we were going – downstairs and then down the corridor to his office. We walked in silence. I distantly thought about what he must think of me. The student he put so much time and effort into teaching, leaving to go to another academy, without even telling him. _Without telling anyone..._

"Sit," he said, pulling out a chair for me.

I looked around the neat, cherry wood furnished office. I had been here twice before – once after me, Emmett and Jasper had been found out for putting gum on Lauren's shoe, and once after the Review with Edward. Both times I'd been told off, and I'd worried about what was going to happen to me next, what punishments I'd get.

But now those worries seemed so childish...because then I knew that the next day I'd be woken up by Madame Esme's six-thirty knock on the door and be given a second chance, and the people I cared about...even if we weren't on the best of terms...they would still be there.

Now, everything had been pulled from under me. I was with a headmaster whose trust I'd betrayed, in a school which wasn't even my own anymore...

I felt like an outsider. And I felt...so alone.

"Bella," Carlisle said quietly. He was seated across from me, leaning forward. The desk lamp cast a warm, kind light on his face, but I knew I didn't deserve it. I deserved to be yelled at. "Bella," he said again.

I realized that I couldn't quite look at him.

I bit my lip hard and met his eyes. He frowned, "I'm not angry."

"I should have told you," my voice was still no more than a cracked whisper.

"Yes," he said evenly. "But I know you had good intentions at heart."

He put his fingertips together, then looked at me, "Your mother called a while back, in the early days of your recovery, and told me your family was struggling financially to keep you here."

"She didn't tell me that." Not that it mattered anymore...

Carlisle nodded, "I went to the board and asked for help, but it was the wrong time. They wouldn't allow another scholarship at this part of the year." He put a hand to his forehead, and only for a second, I glimpsed a side of him that I had never seen before; frustration. Frustration with himself. "I am sorry, Bella," he said, looking back at me with such sincerity in his eyes. "I tried everything in my power to keep you here, but it was obviously not enough. You deserve a place here. You are a hard working, passionate dancer..." he sighed. "But I heard nothing more from your mother, and so I assumed you had found another way to pay the bills."

Mom had been waiting for me to tell Edward. I hadn't wanted him to find out from a teacher accidentally...but I guess that backfired.

Carlisle cleared his throat, "So Aro Colaianni's offered you a scholarship?"

"I never wanted to leave," I told him, suddenly needing to tell him I didn't want this...to somehow try and make up for leaving. "It...it wasn't like I reapplied or anything; they just sent a letter saying someone had pulled out and I was next in line for a scholarship."

"I understand," Carlisle said. "And I am glad that you will be able to continue your dancing elsewhere."

I shook my head, "It won't be the same."

Master Carlisle looked at me, sadness in his eyes, "It will be very different. But I'm sure you will find your place there."

I didn't believe him. I didn't believe there was anywhere for me but _Force..._but now there was no place for me here anymore, not after what I'd done. What I'd failed to tell anyone.

Carlisle reached into one of the desk draws and pulled out a piece of paper. He slid it across to me with a pen.

_Force de la Beauté_

_Student Withdrawal Form_

I just stared at the words.

"It just needs to be signed," Master Carlisle said quietly. "I can do the rest."

I nodded blankly and, with a shaking hand, signed my name at the bottom of the page.

_This signature below affirms the request that my name be removed from the school register and boarding house._

I put the pen down, feeling sick, and Carlisle silently took the paper back.

"Do I have to stay until the end of the week?" I asked. I wasn't sure I could bear that.

"That is up to you and your parents," he said.

I nodded, realizing that the academy's rules no longer applied to me – I wasn't a student here any longer. I wasn't a part of this place.

We both stood up, and Master Carlisle walked me to the door.

"Thank you, Miss Swan," he said. "It has been a pleasure and an honour having you here."

"I'm so sorry for everything," I whispered.

He gave me a sad smile and opened the door.

Mister Masen stood there, a dissatisfied expression on his face. "My son is waiting for you outside," he said, then just gave me a distasteful look and went past me into Carlisle's office.

The door clicked shut behind me. Through the wall I could hear that Mister Masen had already launched into a complaint. About me, almost certainly.

I waited a moment, once again pushing down the pain, and went to the door in the far corner that Edward's father has gestured to.

I stepped outside, onto a snow-dusted terrace.

I had never been out here before, and I suspected it would have been beautiful another time, with the snow gently falling on the old fashioned masonry...but just not now.

Edward stood at the stone balustrade, his back to me, looking out over the white covered grounds of _Force. _I knew he was aware of my presence, but he didn't turn around.

It was cold, and I was still in my tutu and leotard. I didn't care, though. The bite of sharp air suited me well.

The wet paving stones darkened the satin of my pointe shoes as I approached him. Still, he didn't move. I rested my hands on the balustrade and watched the pine trees sway in the breeze, their branches heavy with snow. I used to love the Winter...and yet somehow it had now become my enemy – a sign that my time at _Force _was coming to an end. I was stupid. I couldn't have stopped the end from coming, just as much as I couldn't stop the snow from falling or the puddles freezing.

"Tell me," Edward said eventually, still staring out. His voice betrayed no emotion, his eyes only an intense focus. "Tell me everything."

I shivered in the cold air. _Strength, Bella, strength... _"My parents told me they'd run out of money...they couldn't pay for me to stay here anymore..."

"When?" Edward said. His face was still blank. "When did they tell you?"

I folded my arms tight around my ribs, as if they would protect me. "Thanksgiving."

He didn't react, just nodded mutely.

"But then I got a letter from Aro Colaianni's, offering me a scholarship. It...it was all expenses paid, everything. And my mom liked it for the academics..." I realized how stupid I sounded. None of it mattered – not when it meant I was leaving here. "It was my only option, Edward," I whispered. "This is my only chance of being able to keep dancing...can't you see – ?"

"Of course I see," he cut in, suddenly turning toward me, his voice so tense. His green eyes burned into me. "Of course I understand! What I _don't _understand is why you would keep it from me. You've known this for almost a _month _now! Why wouldn't you bother to tell me?"

I stepped back a little, my breath coming out in a white cloud in front of me. My heart thudded painfully, "I don't know why," I said quietly. "I just wanted my last weeks here to be happy."

"Whilst I went around like a total idiot?" Edward snapped. "Thinking that we were going to be long term partners, that everything was fine? That after all the shit I put you through before the review we were finally going to be happy? I went around believing that we could trust each other implicitly when _you_ knewyou were just going to leave me at the end of the year!"

"It wasn't like that..." the pain was building again now, and I knew I couldn't stop it this time.

Edward's fist clenched in the snow, "Do you seriously care so little about me that you wouldn't think to tell me you were leaving? Do you think that our partnership," he laughed incredulously, and it scared me even more, "Our _relationship _was that unimportant?"

"No!" I exclaimed desperately. "Of course not! Things were so perfect...I didn't want them to change. I didn't want _us _to change...the partnering classes and everything..."

"Right," he said, looking away. "So it was like that, then? You didn't want our dancing together to stop. You thought I'd ditch you and you'd be the first year girl once again. You wanted to have your glory here right up until the end."

"Of course not!" I repeated. "You _know _it's not like that! You know how much I care and trust you!"

"Not enough to tell me that you're _leaving _me!" Edward exclaimed. "Not enough to tell me that you can't find the money!"

"I knew there was nothing to be done! I just wanted to forget it!"

"There _was _something to be done!" Edward snarled. "I could have asked my father!"

"Seriously?" I said, my voice rising higher. "I don't want to be your charity case!"

"What?" he snapped. "So your pride is more important than our partnership?" He ran a hand through his hair. "I gave up so much for you, Bella!" he said. "My audition, Tanya...all my time, my freaking reputation. But I seriously believed that we had something which was worth it. Something stronger than all of that."

"We do!" I cried.

He shook his head, "You wouldn't even fight to stay here. You wouldn't even tell me so that we could work through it together." He seemed to lose some of his energy. He looked me up and down, and when he spoke his voice was quiet and sad, "You have no faith in us, do you?" He shook his head disbelievingly, his resolve growing stronger. "You never did. I could see it, in the studio, when we rehearsed. You gave up so quickly. Like you just knew it would never work."

"I didn't," I whispered brokenly, but even as I said it, I knew he was right...I _had_ lost faith in us. I hadn't believed we could truly match what he and Tanya had had...and it was true; there was a part of me which had always been scared of what Edward would have done if I'd told him...a part of me which had worried that he'd just leave me.

Edward saw the surrender in my expression.

He took a deep breath, and looked at me with those two deep emerald eyes, the ones I had stared into so often...the ones which, when we danced, had shown me into his very soul, and the ones which had delved deep into my own.

But now...now he looked at me blankly again, and I knew that any connection I'd had with him had been cut off.

"I'm sorry this isn't what I thought it was," he said quietly, then he turned and walked away.

\*\*/*/

I only lasted a few more seconds standing before my knees gave way, and I sunk to the ground. Icy water soaked through my tights, and snowflakes caught in the rough tulle of my tutu. Finally, the tears which I had kept locked away until now flooded my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. I wrapped my arms tight around myself again and bent over. This was too horrible to bear. I couldn't...

I slammed my hand into the snow, gripping a fistful of it. _How can I be so stupid! So, so stupid!_

My fingers curled around it, making it harder, turning it to ice. And then that was too much, and I let go and just lay there, my arm still outstretched, my forehead on my knees.

My mind spun with yells and screams, whispers, prayers. And memories...memories of Edward saving me from Mike in my first partnering class. When we'd danced together afterward, and everything had just fallen into place like I'd never felt before. And when we'd been forced together time after time, even though he didn't want to see me, with Tanya's arguments or pas de deux classes or in the dining hall. Every time we'd met each other's gaze, it had been new and exciting and unknown.

And when we had danced together in the Review, when he'd come to my rescue all the way from New York...it had been so perfect and easy...because all we needed to focus on was the present. That was all we needed to do; focus on what our hearts were saying at that moment. And so it was so simple. So pure...

But now there were pasts and futures to worry about. Standards and rules and people to worry about. Now we were in the real world...and it hadn't worked out. Our pasts were so different, our futures so...impossible. The present could no longer be used for what we wanted to do at that moment, but what we wanted to do in a few months or years. And it didn't work. It was just too hard...I wasn't good enough for him...

The sky was turning dark, and still I lay there. Something glinted at me through the snow. I realized it was the ring Edward had given me at Thanksgiving. The sapphires winked at me, as if trying to make this entire thing prettier.

Slowly, I sat up and pulled the ring off my finger.

I was totally soaked through now, and a piece of hair had fallen from my bun and now hung in front of my eyes, snowflakes clinging to it. I was a wreck...but it didn't matter. I didn't care.

Shakily, I stood up. The snow slid off my tutu as I slowly walked back inside. Fortunately, everyone was in the dining hall, and so the entrance hall was clear.

Shivering now, my wet tights and leotard clinging to me, I made my way up the grand staircase. The ring was cupped in my hands, close to my body. As if I was trying to keep it...though I was going to leave it at Edward's door. It was his...he had meant something by it which I couldn't reciprocate, and now I had to give it back.

I walked slowly down the seniors' corridor. The massive windows along the right side lit the corridor in pale, weak moonlight.

I reached Edward's room. Number forty-eight. Light seeped through the bottom of the door.

I frowned, sure I could hear something...

"Oh Eddie!"

My heart froze. There was only one person that could be...

In a split second, I had thrown open the door.

Edward and Tanya were chest to chest, their faces plastered to each other, Tanya's bare leg hitched over his hip, his hand on her thigh...

"Oh my God!" I choked, then turned around and ran.

* * *

><p><strong>Please review! Tell me what you think!<strong>

**Personally, I'm hunting for a baseball bat...**

**Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

Alas, the Queen's Birthday has come to an end...

But huzzah! So has the incredibly long wait for Chapter Seven!

I am so sorry for the wait, guys; I really am. I've had a lot of stuff on which has used up all of my energy. Arg!

But here I am!

**Thank you so much for your reviews!**

**It's thanks to you that I keep going with this, and that I know what to write!**

**You guys inspire me, thank you so, so much.**

So please review

**and enjoy!**

* * *

><p>"Bella!" I heard Edward call after me.<p>

I didn't stop. I kept running down the corridor. He didn't call again. All I could hear was my heavy, laboured breathing.

Tears blinded me, and my throat tightened, sickness boiling up inside of me. _Oh God, oh God, oh God!_

I flew down the stairs, one hand clutched to my mouth.

_Edward...Tanya!_

This was too much...too much...

\*\*/*/

There are places you go to 'hide' where you know that someone will find you. Because you want them to find you, even if you don't properly admit it. I could have run to one of the studios, or the library...someone would have tracked me down eventually...and maybe they would've patted me on the back and told me it was going to be okay...

But I didn't want to be found. Because there was no one here who I could possibly face right now. I wasn't a part of _Force _now – I wasn't a part of anywhere.

And so I went to the place where I knew no one would think of – the theatre.

I sat curled up in the middle of the stage, the massive tiers and rows of seats expanding out in front of me. It was dark, and maybe I should have been scared. But the empty seats...the black, unlit stage...the imposing high tiers and the patient, still silence were what I needed.

I cried. I let the pain come over me. I didn't know what to think. I didn't process what I had just seen, or what it meant. My heart knew how to feel, and that was all that mattered. It just replayed that picture in my head. Tanya Denali...Tanya, who wasn't even meant to be here, who was meant to be far, far away from me and Edward, _kissing _him...wrapped around him, another one of her stupid sparkly golden dresses pulled up her thigh.

I gasped, my teeth gritting together, my nails digging into my wet tights. _How...how can everything fall apart so quickly? _

I guess time passed. I didn't feel it, though. It all blurred.

After a while, my tears had all been shed, and I just sat there, my forehead pressed into my knees, praying for it to all go away. Praying I had never danced with Edward Masen in the first place. Praying I had never even come to _Force. _

There was a sudden clunk from one of the wings.

My head shot up. I did not need to see anyone right now...

"Bella?" Alice emerged out of the darkened backstage. She'd changed out of her exam uniform now and was wearing a black polka-dotted white dress with cap sleeves and a red belt. It bubbled out from her waist, making her look almost like a little girl, except then she wore black tights and shiny red heels. I would miss her crazy, amazing outfits...

"Don't look so surprised," she said chastisingly, seeing my expression. I thought I'd be alone here... "You forget two major things; firstly, I spend half my time in the wardrobe department down the hall, and secondly, you're my friend – I would tear down the school to find you after what I heard."

"Does everyone know?" I asked glumly, staring at my knees.

"Pretty much," she said nonchalantly. Then she sighed. I heard the clicking of heels, and then Alice was sitting down next to me. "You know no one blames you for this – it sucks, but we're all behind you."

"_He _isn't," I said. I huffed and ran a hand through my hair.

Alice shook her head, "You just wanted to prolong what you had. No one can blame you for that. If it had been Jasper, I wouldn't have wanted to say anything..."

I said nothing. She didn't understand. If it had been Jasper, he wouldn't have been found kissing some other girl. I gritted my teeth against the pain. No, Jasper wouldn't have done that to Alice. But Edward...I added anger to the list of emotions burning within me.

"Bella?" Alice said, putting a hand on my back.

I brushed the last tears from my cheeks and stood up. "I have to get out of here."

"What?" Alice exclaimed, getting up as well. "You can't. It's almost the end of term..."

"I have to," I repeated. "I can't stay..."

"Of course you can," she said, following me as I left the stage. It was only as I entered the wings that I realized that I had been sitting in the exact spot where I had had my first kiss with Edward.

_"That dance meant everything, Bella..."_

_And then his lips were on mine._

_I gasped. What? But then I was kissing him back urgently, my dancer's instinct taking over. I felt his smile as our mouths met. My bodice pressed into his chest. He was so warm..._

_His strong arms wrapped further around me. My fingers wove into his hair._

_Perfection...perfection in chaos..._

I swallowed down the sick feeling in my throat and pushed through the stage door and into the brightly lit maze of corridors behind the theatre.

"Bella!" Alice hurried to catch up. "Why do you have to leave so soon? I get that you're embarrassed but you can't just go without saying goodbye! Bella!"

I spun around, "Because Tanya's back!"

Alice stopped in her tracks. "What?"

"Tanya's back," I repeated. "And as far as I can tell she's Edward's partner again."

Alice frowned, "Wait, when did this happen? How do you know...?"

All the energy flew out of my body. I spoke quietly now, "Because I saw them together."

It took a moment to register on Alice's face, and then she turned pink, "That _idiot!"_

I just nodded, "That's why I can't stay here, Alice. I can't be around that."

She hesitated a moment, but then she nodded, "I understand. And I'll help you."

I managed to produce a smile out of somewhere. "Thank you."

"Come on," she said. We reached the door to the Entrance Hall and went through. "Oh crap," Alice muttered as we both heard the sound of many footsteps and voices. It was the time between dinner and lights out, and the corridors would be busy.

"Okay," Alice said, turning to me. She looked at me speculatively. "Today may not have been the best day for mascara..."

I groaned despite myself and tried my best to sort out my panda eyes.

"That's better," Alice said. There wasn't much we could do about my tattered tutu and stained tights. "It looks dramatic," Alice reasoned as we set off.

There wasn't a single student who we passed who didn't look at me. Most with curiosity, or amusement, or amazement. I heard my name and Edward's murmured several times. A few people actually had the courage to say something to my face.

"Oh my God," said one girl who was walking down with a group of her friends. She stopped in front of me with wide eyes. "Is it true that you're ditching _Force _for Aro Colaianni's? And Edward Masen's father's paying for you?"

"What?" I exclaimed.

"This isn't the college of journalism, dear!" Alice chimed and pulled me away. "Or Playboy magazine," she muttered as we got further away from them. "Just because you wear a see-through shirt does not mean you should be able to _see..._ugh, yuck."

The stairs to the third floor were quieter, but I knew the worst was yet to come.

The door to my dorm was closed, but I could hear voices inside. _Oh God..._

Alice must have seen the look on my face. She pushed me into a corner and said, "I have no guarantees that this will work, but we did it in First Year when Jasper and I..." she cleared her throat. "Anyways..."

She knocked on the door and stepped in. I heard her voice through the door, "Hey guys! Mistress Esme asked me to come tell you guys that the first day exam results are up in the Entrance Hall. She noticed none of you had checked with her."

"Seriously?" said one of Master Rodriguez's girls. "I thought they came out in the holidays."

"Totals, but not today's. Now hurry up!" she said. "Do you seriously expect Mistress Esme to just hang around waiting for you guys?"

And then all my dorm mates were coming out the door, talking excitedly about what they think they got.

"Finally!" Alice exclaimed.

I went in to find Eliza and Violet still there, standing with Alice. "Bella!" they both exclaimed, staring at me.

Eliza came and gave me a hug, "We heard that you're enrolled at Aro's or something..."

I gave Alice a look. She shrugged, "You can't just not say goodbye, Bella."

Thankfully, she took it upon herself to brush over the details for them, and so I grabbed my phone and called my Mom.

"Hello?"

"Mom, it's me..." hearing my Mom's voice made me want to burst into tears all over again, but I knew this wasn't the time.

"Bella, sweetie!" Mom exclaimed. "Your principal just called...we didn't realize you hadn't told the school..."

"I know, Mom," I said. "I know. I just want to come home." _Home. _The word made my heart squeeze painfully. This had once been home.

"He said you might. I looked at bus times; tomorrow afternoon?"

"Tonight," I said. "Please, Mom."

"Uh," I knew that now my Mom would be battling with herself now, trying to work out how responsible she needed to be without becoming _too _dominating. It was a ridiculous request, really – it was already getting late and I was still just a teenage girl. But I knew she still felt unrightfully guilty for taking me away from _Force, _so she relented. "Okay, there's one at eleven from Portland. Do you have money for a taxi?"

"Yeah," I said. "Thanks, Mom."

"Call me once you're in Portland."

"I love you."

"Love you, too, Sweetie."

I hung up. After another two minutes of explaining to the taxi company where and what _Force de la Beauté _was, I was done.

"I can't believe you're going, Bella," Eliza said.

"I can't believe you didn't _tell _us," said Violet, sitting down on my bed as I pulled out my suitcase. She didn't say it in an accusing way, just sadly.

"I'm sorry, Vi'," I said, opening up my trunk and just throwing my belongings into the suitcase carelessly. "I should have." I stopped and looked at the three of them. My biggest concern had always been Edward; I'd hardly thought about how my silence would hurt all my other friends. My guilt grew even bigger. "I should have told everyone when I first got back. But I was just happy to _be _back, to be with you guys again."

"This sucks," Eliza said, fiddling with the ribbons of one of my pointe shoes. "And I can't believe what Edward's father did! That was an exam!"

"Was he really scary?" Violet asked, leaning in.

Alice coughed, "Anthony Masen is the epitome of rude and, yes, scary."

I raised an eyebrow, "You've met him? I thought no one ever saw him."

She laughed, "Oh yeah. He doesn't like me one bit, though – I'm too short. At First Year prize giving, he told Jasper to find someone else when I was standing right next to him. Then he pointed out Rosalie and said 'now she's a beautiful girl, isn't she?' Jasper just nodded and said 'Yes, my sister often says that about herself.'"

Eliza and Violet laughed. I managed to smile again, but that just reminded me that I was leaving these friends. I'd never see them again.

It didn't take long to pack my stuff. I threw a lot of pairs of pointe shoes into the bin. I gotten through a lot in the past few days – in rehearsals with Edward. I usually kept a few dead pairs of shoes to hang up on my walls at home – a random ritual the girls in Forks Ballet School had all adopted and I'd followed after that first dance of _Babbino. _Of course, they'd just been slippers back then, but once I'd finished with them, I'd written on them with permanent marker, putting down all the performances I'd worn them in.

I would never do that with these shoes. I couldn't.

I glanced at my phone clock. "I'd better go," I said quietly. I'd changed out of my soaked ballet clothes into a pair of skinny jeans and a t-shirt. Now I pulled on my white trench coat and boots and brushed out my hair. Looking in the mirror, I seemed to have it together...but one look in my eyes and I knew that anyone could tell I was falling apart.

We met the girls from our dorm on the way down. They gave Alice stormy looks when they saw her, but they were distracted by me and my suitcase.

With Alice's scariest look in place, only Lauren spoke up. "Running away, Bella?" she sniggered, "I told you partnering requires equal strength from both partners. I guess Edward finally realized that, huh?"

"Shut up, Lauren," I snapped.

Alice and Eliza nudged me forward.

All the way down, people stared. I felt even sicker as I stepped down from the last step of the staircase and onto the Entrance Hall floor. The doors stood in front of me.

_"Welcome to Force, Miss. Swan,"_

_"It's amazing..."_

"Miss Swan!" Madame Esme's signature stilettos clicked on the cherry wood floor. I looked up to see her walking smartly from the Dining Hall. Usually, she had an air of absolute control about her, but now there was something out of place. A piece of hair had come of her bun, but she ignored it. And then she reached us and put her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. "I am so, so sorry," she said in a soft French accent I had only once heard from her before – after Edward had rejected me, and I had been so confused...

_"Edward is a silly boy, Bella."_

He was, and I was a silly girl...

She pulled back, looking at me concernedly, "I promise you, I shall be having words with my husband over this. And with the board, over Mister Masen's conduct..." she shook her head. "You should not have to leave, Bella, never."

All I could do was bite my lip to stop the tears.

Madame Esme sighed, looking at me so sadly, and then patted my hair down, "Keep dancing, ma chere. Do not let anyone, or anything stop you. Oui?"

"Oui, Madame," I got out.

She gave me a sad smile and then, just as she had opened the door for me so long ago to welcome me in, she now opened the door for me to leave.

I picked up my suitcase again and stepped out in the night. The outdoor lights outlined the circular courtyard, lighting it in pale yellow. The snow flurried down now, the grounds were all coated in white.

Tentatively, I stepped down, suddenly unsure of my footing. My cab waited for me on the cobblestones, just like a cab had dropped me off on my very first day here...

_The cab drove away, leaving me on the cobbled driveway with my suitcase, alone. The school loomed up in front of me. It was like an old British manor house. Three stories of red bricks and large windows, complete with stone gargoyles and brick chimneys. I almost groaned. God what was I getting myself into? This place was not fit for someone like me. I ran my hand through my hair as I tugged my bag up the steps._

I really hadn't had any idea what I was getting myself into, I realized now. I had thought a prestigious ballet academy, where I would either succeed or fail in becoming a professional dancer. But it was so much more than that. This place had become my home. A place of friendship and passion and..._love. _I didn't want to think the word, but it couldn't be denied.

I swallowed and made my way down the rest of the steps. The cab driver hopped out and grabbed my suitcase. He gave a confused look behind me.

That was when I realized that all those people I had passed on the way down the stairs hadn't gone to their rooms – they'd followed me here, and now these students stood out in the snow or in the doorway, watching. Out of curiosity, I guessed. But it didn't matter. The more there were, the more painful it was. This is what I was leaving...my school...

And then suddenly big muscular arms were around me, lifting me up, "Jeez, Bells!" Emmett exclaimed, squeezing me tight. "You can't just go off like this. Who'm I gonna tease about old age without you here?"

He put me down and put his big hands on my shoulders. "Stay in contact, right?" he said, like a concerned big brother. "And go give Aro Colaianni's something they can actually brag about."

"I'm so sorry, Emmett," I whispered. He just gave me a big, sad smile, crushed me in his arms once more and then stepped back so Rosalie could see me.

She just stared sordidly at me for a moment and then put her long arms around me. "Don't screw up," she said over my shoulder, sounding very Russian. "They'll probably all think you are crap, but you are better than them. You aren't shit."

Any other day, I may have laughed. Now I just gave her a shy smile and moved on to Jasper.

He bent down from his great height and gave me a hug, patting me on the shoulder. I began to wonder how on earth he and Alice got on. "I'll miss you, Bella. We all will," he frowned, pulling back. "Including Edward."

I just nodded mutely. I didn't want to think about him. Not now.

Next came Violet and Eliza, who both flung their arms around me at the same time.

"Come back soon, right?" said Violet.

"What she _means," _Eliza said, "Is you have to come visit. We don't care what school you're at."

"And we don't give a crap if Master Carlisle doesn't let you in," said Violet. The thought of Master Carlisle not even letting me through the doors was kind of depressing... "We'll get you in through a window or something!"

I had to laugh. "I'll miss you guys," I whispered.

Last was Alice. She stood there bravely, the toes of her Jimmy Choos only just peeking out of the snow.

She looked at me and smiled, but I could tell it was forced, "Don't forget us."

I let out a breath, "How on earth could I forget you, Alice Brandon? With your dyed shoes and your amazing leos and your general craziness?" I smiled properly this time, and shook my head. "Thank you for everything, Alice."

We hugged, and then that was it. I turned to my friends. "I'll miss you all, so much."

I looked at the rest of my school, the students who were standing out here, watching me go. Master Carlisle and Madame Esme stood in the doorway. Just behind them was Madame Cox. She nodded to me, in her typical fashion. I nodded back. There could never be any teachers as good as Madame Cox or Master Carlisle. They couldn't be beaten.

Before I lost my nerve, I turned and walked to the cab. I got in, feeling so empty. The driver pulled out. _One last look! _My heart suddenly pleaded.

I turned and looked out the back window. All I saw was the sign:

_Force de la Beauté_

_Ballet Academy_

And then something caught my eye...in the yellow lights from the windows of the second floor stood a man, his fingertips gripping the wall beside him, his dancer's body rigid, his other hand fisted against the glass.

_All I could think about was Edward Masen...I fell asleep to his strong, beautiful dance._

* * *

><p>...farewell <em>Force...<em>

**Please review - your comments are invaluable!**

**Thanks for reading!**_  
><em>

Also! Tudor London has been updated quite a bit in the last week (finally got over the Christmas Writer's Block) so please do take a look!


	8. Chapter 8

Hello!

So sorry that it was longer than a week's wait. Busy and such, but anyways...

**Thank you so much for your reviews last chapter!**

**You make this story, seriously! Thank you!**

Big thanks to Mister DMG this chapter! You're a genius!

**Please do review!**

**And, most importantly,**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>With or Without You - Scala and the Kolacny Brothers (for those of you reading Tudor London, I know, I know - I'm repeating myself :D)<em>

_Something More - Secondhand Serenade (just discovered and it's amazing!)_

_The Nutcracker - By the most amazing composer ever...Tchaikovsky (or 'chike' as he is now referred to by the music geniuses I know)_

* * *

><p>It was so dark outside as I sat on the bus. My phone told me it was one twenty-eight in the morning. The college student in the seat next to me was asleep. He'd gotten the idea pretty early on that I wasn't exactly in the mood for getting chatted up, and so he'd left me alone.<p>

I was so tired now. But I couldn't sleep.

The bus powered on through the countryside, the road like a black treadmill underneath. Occasionally, the bus would come to a halt, and the bus driver would come and shake someone out of their sleep, and that person would dazedly get out. Other than that, everything was much the same. Endless, terrible...safe night.

I cried on and off. I didn't feel like I wanted to cry, but then some memory – his good morning kisses or how he always looked at me when Mike was dancing with me – would come out at me and suddenly my cheeks would be wet. It was ridiculous and weak, but I couldn't help it.

Still, I kept my tears to myself as best I could; I'd already had a few weird looks thrown at me for being a teenage girl with a tutu half hanging out of her sports bag. The last thing I needed was for them to think I was some sort of runaway.

Not that I wasn't running away. I was. If I'd been brave, then I would have stayed and faced Edward and the entire school.

But there was nothing there for me anyway. And Edward sure as Hell wouldn't want me there. It was right to leave, and make space for Tanya.

My mind started, finally, to slow. Thoughts and memories all mixed into dreams.

The last thing I registered before I went to sleep was the glint of tiny sapphires on my pinkie finger. I felt some sort of reassurance, strength in me before I held it to my lips and slipped into darkness.

_We were in a sunbathed studio, just the two of us. I recognized the studio...the one where I'd first seen him dance. "What are you doing, Bella?" Edward asked me, leaning against the barre._

"_Dancing," I replied, twirling and twirling. He laughed and caught me mid spin, putting his feet outside my own._

"_Since when did you dance? Hmmm?" He brushed a stray from my face and leant forward to kiss me._

"_Thought I could try," I said, turning my head to the side so that his lips ended up on my cheek. "Do I look awful?"_

_He laughed then, "Bella Swan, you always look beautiful, regardless of whether you're tripping over your chucks or not."_

"_I'd like to see you try," I said, poking my tongue out at him._

_He laughed and swept me up in his arms and..._

I woke to my phone vibrating in my lap. It was beginning to lighten outside, the first traces of day on the horizon. I rubbed my eyes and looked at my phone;

_Caller ID: Edward Masen_

My heart jolted. Any thought of running away or Aro's or anger went right out of my head. I climbed over the still dozing college student and went down the back of the bus to the toilet.

"Hello?" I breathed, my chest pounding.

"Hello, Bella."

My heart dropped. "Tanya." My voice betrayed more disappointment than I'd wanted it to.

"Had a good night?" she purred. "I know I did."

"What do you want and why are you on Edward's phone?"

She laughed that high, unbearable laugh. "I thought I'd already answered that second one." I heard sheets moving in the background. "As to the first, well..." that laugh again. "I guess I just wanted to boast. Oh yes, and ask you what length skirt Carlisle wants me in for Romeo and Juliet? Knee or calf?"

I wanted to throw the bitch into the bus toilet, but unfortunately the laws of technology didn't work like that. "I don't know, Tanya, maybe a couple of metres past your toes. At least you'll have an excuse for tripping over the next person who's better than you."

It took her only a moment to recover, "Well, it's me who's lying in his bed right now, sweetie, not you."

I froze then. My hand clenched the phone, my fingers digging into the plastic. _She's just playing a trick on you, Bella... _"Aw, cute," she cooed. "He's already taken the photo of you out of his picture frame."

That photo...Alice had taken it of us last week, and gotten it developed over the weekend. We'd been in one of the studios at lunch time with everyone, and we'd just been playing around, me in my stocking feet and him with his trackpants rolled up his calves. But then he'd spun me and we'd ended up so close together, and we'd totally forgotten Alice was there with her camera as we'd kissed...

_He's thrown it away, _I thought. I hadn't seen it since Alice showed it to us late that night. And now I'd never seen it. But that meant that Tanya really was in Edward's room...

"Nothing to say, Bella?" Tanya's voice came through the line.

I swallowed stiffly, "You got what you wanted, Tanya. You got Edward and you've got me gone. Do what you want with Edward, but leave me out of don't call me again. I won't answer."

I took the phone away from my ear, not wanting to hear whatever snarky comment was coming next, and hung up.

_I will not cry. Not over Tanya..._not _over Tanya..._

My throat feeling horribly tight, I went and sat back down in my seat, and watched the sun rise with a sick feeling in my stomach. _How can I go on?_

\*\*/*/

The days leading up to Christmas were quiet and empty. I didn't know what to do with myself. I felt as if I'd been cut loose from everything, everything I cared about. My friends, Edward...my dance. Everything I had loved was far away now, across the state, doors locked to me forever. The place where I had once belonged – the place I'd once called _home –_ I wasn't allowed to belong there anymore. Where was I meant to go? What was I meant to do?

I stayed in the safety of my room, pretending to be catching up on schoolwork. And I did. I worked through trig question after trig question, collected Shakespeare quotes, memorized chemical reactions...and then I would find myself staring out the window at the snow which flurried down onto my dad's backyard. Just staring, feeling that untethered feeling again. Where did I go from here?

\*\*/*/

Mom and Phil arrived on Christmas Eve. They both clambered into the hallway, shaking snow off their coats and laughing. "Bella!" Mom said as she saw me, and gave me a damp, but warming hug.

Phil then put his big baseball player's arms around me and crushed me to him. "Missed you, Bells!"

_He's just like Emmett, _I realized, and then bit my lip to stop whatever emotion it was this time – guilt, sadness, nostalgia, regret. They had all morphed into one thing.

"Missed you, too," I said.

Dad came out of the kitchen then, wiping his hands on a tea towel. "Hey, Renee," he said, giving her a friendly hug. He clapped Phil on the back, "Good to see you."

"Still nursing your wounds from the Mariner's game?" Phil said as we all went into the kitchen.

Dad laughed. It was the first laugh this house had had in a while – Dad had been smart enough to give me space this past week. "Swear they put lead in the bat."

I paused for a moment in the doorway, and wondered if this was what it would be like if I ever met Edward and Tanya again. Hugs and pecks on the cheek, friendly, inconsequential conversation.

"_Enjoying your scheming and plotting, Tanya?"_

"_Sure thing, Bella. God, dinner smells great. Is that new wallpaper?"_

Dad started pouring wine for the four of us, whilst Phil and Mom sat down, Phil naturally putting his arm around her waist.

I got that sick feeling again as I saw Edward and Tanya doing the same thing. Edward's arm around her...and then perhaps giving her a chaste kiss on the lips as we started talking about how they were now one of the World's greatest partnerships, right up there with Margot Fonteyn and Rudolf Nureyev. How audiences loved their chemistry, their skill...how the reviews had all said that they were just perfect together. And I would smile and nod, and feel so happy for them.

_No, _I thought resolutely. My Dad had never had reason to hate Phil...and my Dad and my Mom had divorced on good terms...they had both moved on. I couldn't imagine that happening with me, even if Edward already had.

"Bella, honey?" Mom said, snapping me out of my reverie. She was smiling at me, "We were just talking about the posters we passed on the way here – Mrs Harcourt's putting on the Nutcracker tonight with all the little ones. Thought it might be fun to go, get into the Christmas spirit and all?"

I hesitated. The truth was that I hadn't even left the house since I got here. The only fresh air I'd had was when I'd gone outside to get firewood. "I..."

Phil raised his eyebrow, "You might pick up some important tips, Bells – I heard this team was deadly."

I smiled, just a little. "I guess..."

"That's my girl," Dad said.

\*\*/*/

Forks Theatre was small. _Really _small in comparison to _Force's _massive three tiered French masterpiece. But given the average height of the cast, it fit.

I had performed in here once or twice as well. Never in the Nutcracker – Mrs Harcourt had obviously expanded, although it wasn't the full ballet, just sections.

It was a good show. The curtains parted to reveal a sparkling Christmas tree and a group of little girls all in little pink tutus. I couldn't help but smile as I watched them carefully, with the utmost concentration, tiptoe across the stage and spin and hold hands and run round in a circle. One little girl, red haired and a little confused, started going the wrong way at one point, and one of the older dancers quickly slipped on from offstage and put her right. For the first time since I had left, I managed to forget about Edward and _Force._

One of the girls from my old class of six played Clara, and the other four all had main parts. It was strange seeing them now. I noticed more things about their technique and their style, the way their moves were choreographed, which I never would have noticed before. Suddenly, I realized just how must _Force _had changed me. In everything.

The show went on without any more hitches, aside from a few more moments where the red haired girl stumbled or the white paper which was meant to be for the snow scene started to fall during the dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. She was played by Jesse, who did ballet on top of hip hop, jazz and ten thousand other extra-curricular activities. I wondered whether she'd take ballet anywhere. She was good.

My only dark moment came when Jesse was joined onstage by the Nutcracker Prince. Mrs Harcourt had managed to find a male ballet dancer over the age of eight in Forks. He looked at least fifteen, and just a little bit nervous as he offered his hand to Jesse, who was tall and, I suspected, kind of intimidating to an adolescent boy who'd probably never done any partnering.

They started the Pas de Deux which Alice had always vowed she and Jasper were going to dance to at the Royal Opera House.

The boy looked nervous through the entire thing, and Jesse wasn't giving him enough of her balance to make the movements fluid.

But...I just heard the music, and then I was right back in the darkened studio with Edward, _his hands on my waist, gently turning me in a pirouette. I slow, and we are face to face, chest to chest. As the violin sighs sadly, I bend backwards, Edward holding me as I arch back toward the ceiling. And then the music comes up again, and so do I. We gaze at each other with total understanding, the pain of the music there between us. It forces us separate, and I tiptoe en pointe backward. His hand reaches for me, and mine for him, but still we grow apart..._

"Bella?" Once again, Mom's voice brought me back to the theatre.

I swallowed and watched as Jesse and the guy reached the big crescendo. Jesse ran at him – turning into a sprinter for a bar – and jumped. He caught her. There was a little dip, a moment of hesitation as he realized he had caught her, and then she was up high, and looking good. The music came to an end.

The audience broke out into applause – it was the best part of the whole show; they had danced well. _And who doesn't love a bit of romance, _I thought dully.

The show finished with an impressive candy cane dance by the little girls – the red haired girl dropped hers once, but was quick to pick it up herself this time. Then Jesse and the boy did another short pas de deux, the full company joined in for a waltz and then they were all lining up for curtsy call.

I stood up and clapped, feeling proud.

"Bella Swan!" I heard someone call as Mom, Dad, Phil and I walked out into the foyer.

I turned around. Mrs Harcourt stood there, her greying hair up in the same bun it had always been in, dressed in a dark green skirt and suit jacket.

I smiled and made my way through the crowd of parents to her. "It's so good to see you, ma'am!" I said, giving her a hug.

"'Ma'am'?" she said with a laugh, pulling back to look at me. "I'm sure I'm not worthy!"

"It was a great show," I said.

She smiled, showing the crinkles in the corners of her eyes, "Thank you. Though I could have used you."

I shook my head, "It was too good for my wilted posture."

She raised an eyebrow, remembering what she had always teased me about, "Well, you are standing straighter now. You have to tell me everything! How long are you home for? When are you going back to _Force?"_

I bit my lip, my excitement dying, "I'm not going back."

She frowned, "Oh."

"Bella's been offered a scholarship to Aro Colaianni's," Mom explained helpfully, coming up beside me. "In senior year."

"Oh," Mrs Harcourt said again, looking surprised. "Well congratulations! That's fantastic! I always thought _Force _was being silly, putting you in First Year. Whoever's running Aro's now has obviously got some brains."

I just nodded. She looked honestly happy for me.

"Is there any way I can convince you to come to the studio before you go?" Mrs Harcourt asked. "It would be so inspiring for the girls."

"Um..."

"She'd love to," Mom said excitedly. I looked at her. She shrugged, "You need to get out of the house, Bella."

"Sure," I said, turning back to Mrs Harcourt.

She clapped her hands together, "Fantastic! And bring your pointes and take class with us – don't want you starting at Aro's out of shape."

We fixed a time up and then let her go back to her students.

I had hardly thought about Aro Colaianni's since I'd come home, but as we walked home through the snow, I started to wonder. Wonder what it would be like...

But no, everyone had said it was a bad school – that they were cheats.

\*\*/*/

Walking into Mrs Harcourt's studio was like taking a step back in time, before my entire life had become ballet. The scratched floor and fingerprinted mirrors, the creaky piano and Mrs Harcourt's husband's 'interesting' playing.

My old dancing friends were excited to see me, and begged me to tell them everything about _Force._

Fortunately, Mrs Harcourt called the class to the barre shortly after that, and I sunk into the repetitive moves which never changed, no matter where you went in the world, no matter who you danced with.

_Edward's probably doing these exact moves right now, _I thought as we performed grand battements – kicking high to the side with a straight leg. Edward had said to me once that he'd never had more than a week's break from ballet before taking class again. It was the second of January, and in a few days time both _Force _and Aro Colaianni's would return. Of course Edward would be taking class somewhere in Chicago right now. Probably with the Joffrey Ballet. Going through these same plies and arabesques and releves. Would he be thinking about me?

I would have thought that he wouldn't have let go so easily...that he wouldn't forget me that quickly...but seeing him with Tanya had told me that he had a _very _short memory. Or maybe I just wasn't good enough for him...

I bit my lip and tried to shut out that thought.

Once we had finished centre work, Mrs Harcourt got everyone to sit. I noticed more people had come in during the class – all the little girls from the Nutcracker, dressed up in their winter coats and shoes. The guy – whose name turned out to be Adam – was also there. Jesse had introduced us. He seemed shy, but he must have had guts to be the only guy in an all-girls ballet school.

"Alright," Mrs Harcourt said as I pulled on my practise tutu. "So for those of you who don't know, this is our very own Bella Swan, who's been at _Force de la Beauté _academy for the past few months and has just been given a scholarship to Aro Colaianni's."

There was an applause. I blushed. It didn't feel like an achievement, not anymore.

"I've managed to convince Bella to show us one of her variations from her time there, so take it away," she smiled at me and went to stand by the barre.

Quickly, I hooked up my iPod to the new sound system she'd put in and flicked it onto the Gamzatti Variation. I had only learnt two solo pieces in my time at _Force, _and the other one was my review piece. Gamzatti, my exam piece, had been so embarrassing in front of Anthony Masen, but at least it hadn't been mine and Edward's first Pas de Deux together. That night when everything had come together...when Edward and I had become a couple and a partnership.

Taking a breath to clear my mind, I went to my starting position and begun. I went through the moves easily, with none of the shakiness I had had in front of Mister Masen. All the work Madame Cox had done with me on this piece came back to me. My landings were light and steady, my turns were balanced and precise. I even forced a smile to my lips, which seemed to stick. _Why couldn't I have just danced like this for Edward's Father? _I thought to myself as the music came to an end.

There was another applause. I smiled at the little girls who stood up in excitement, and gracefully curtsied to them.

"Fantastic," Mrs Harcourt said. "Now does anyone have any questions for our prima ballerina?"

And so they plied me with questions about _Force, _questions which should have been easy to answer but hurt. Everything, from what boarding school was like to how the teachers acted to what the studios were like pulled up memories, which linked to other memories, which just made my entire departure that much harder. But I was able to answer, and no one seemed to notice my nails digging into my tights. _Grow up, Bella. This shouldn't be so hard!_

It was when the little red haired girl put up her hand, though, that the memories became unbearable, "Miss!" she said excitedly, not waiting for the others around her. "What's it like to dance with _boys?"_

"Um," I hesitated.

"Yeah," said Jesse. "Didn't you do it every day? You must have learnt loads."

"I..." I swallowed. _Come on... _"Partnering is difficult. It's harder than it seems. You have to factor in another person into your interpretation, your technique...everything changes and suddenly you have to rely on someone...and match them, understand them, know what they're going to do...otherwise really big mistakes and sometimes injuries can happen..." _Like my concussion...like Angela..._

"Is it really awkward?" asked one of my old friends.

"No," I said quietly. "It...it can be the most amazing feeling, sharing your dance with someone..." _Edward. Edward...dancing with Edward... _"But the most important thing of all about Pas de Deux is that you have to have to trust your partner." The lump in my throat grew. "You have to trust that he will catch you, no matter what."

I couldn't go on. _I didn't trust him...and he didn't catch me. God, Edward..._I bit my lip hard. I couldn't break down. Not now.

"Well, thank you very much, Bella," Mrs Harcourt said, and started everyone clapping again. I gave a shaky smile and began packing up my things. The others began talking excitedly as they left for the changing rooms.

"Bella," Mrs Harcourt came up to me, a kind smile on her face. "Your mother said you had a hard time when you left _Force."_

I hesitated, and then nodded, picking up my bag. "I guess." _The hardest time of my life._

Mrs Harcourt gave me a frank look, "I take it there was a boy involved?"

I looked down, "Yes."

"Oh Bella," she said, and then pulled me into a hug. "I know it hurts, I know."

I felt the tears coming to my eyes again, and this time they spilled over, just a few.

Mrs Harcourt pulled back, putting her hands on my shoulders. Her face was sympathetic, "It will get better, Bella, even if it doesn't seem like it possibly could. But in the mean time, all you can do is keep going. I know you loved _Force – _your mother said as much – but you can dance anywhere, Bella."

I shook my head, "It doesn't feel right. I hardly know anything about Aro's. All I want is _Force."_

Mrs Harcourt frowned, "Bella Swan, you may have been a friend, you may have been a _Force _first year, and yes, you may have been a girlfriend, but above all you are a dancer. And last I saw, you were dancing incredibly. Don't let anyone or anything stop you from doing what I know you love."

I stared at her, and realized that she was right. I had been so buried in grief over leaving...but I could still dance. I still had my dance. My passion. I may have lost a lot, but I didn't have to lose my dance...

"I won't," I whispered.

\*\*/*/

Seattle. The Emerald City. Home of the Mariners, the Seahawks and the Space Needle. _My new home, _some part of me said, though the words sounded wrong.

My cab drove through the busy streets, dwarfed by the sky scrapers. It was a far, far cry from the countryside and national parks which surrounded _Force. _The typical noises of the city surrounded me – the blaring car horns and police sirens, buskers and shop music all blending into one big atmosphere of life on the wintery streets.

I hadn't been to Seattle properly before now, only to the airport, which was nowhere near the city centre. The city seemed so imposing in comparison to everything I was used to.

The Space Needle towered up above us, winter tourists snapping photos of themselves in front of it.

We turned into a more spacious, less crowded street.

"Here we are," said the driver, pulling up. I got out and onto the pavement. The cab drove off, leaving me alone with my suitcase. Manicured green grass, seemingly untouched by the winter, stretched out down the street and bordered a wide path leading to a spacious set of steps. My eyes scanned upward at the glass building which stood there, glinting in the weak sunlight. It was massive, and through the slightly tinted windows I could just make out dancers at the barre, doing their morning class.

Nerves shot through me, chilling and scared.

Above the automatic glass doors, in shiny metal lettering were the words:

_Aro Colaianni_

_School of Contemporary and Classical Dance_

* * *

><p>This chapter was something like the eye of the storm...<p>

**Please review - tell me your thoughts! :D**

**Thanks for reading!**


	9. Chapter 9

Hi :) Long time no pirouettes, pointe shoes or Edward in tights!

I am so incredibly sorry. It's been a whole school term...filled with a lot of stuff which I shan't list, but it did involve a disastrous TV appearance and a trip to South Africa, as well as tumultuous performance exams and studying. LOTS of studying.

Which is why I haven't posted Pas de Trois in such a long time, and I am so sorry for that.

However, here it is; Chapter Nine!

**HUGE! MASSIVE! Thank you if you reviewed! I have read every single one and taken their words all to heart.**

**At a point right now where I am so busy every day that I could easily give up on all this, but I couldn't shut Pas de Trois down with you guys on my back, so thank you so, so much!**

****So, without further ado...

**Please review!**

**And Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>The Truth About Love (Album) - P!nk - <em>like Britt Nicole was for Clair, I think P!nk is going to be the go-to artist for Pas de Trois. Some fantastic stuff, really! Her lyrics and musicianship are great!

* * *

><p>I stepped through the automatic glass doors into a spacious reception area. Everything seemed to be grey stone tiles and polished glass and mirrors. Black and white photographs of dancers lined the walls. None of them were posing – they were all dancing. Their silhouette was their identity, not their faces. And they all looked perfect.<p>

"Can I help you?" came a young voice from behind a glass topped counter directly in front of me.

A girl sat behind it in a prim white blouse and glasses. She couldn't have been much older than me.

I fumbled with my case over to the desk. "Yeah," I said, giving her a flustered smile. "Bella Swan. I'm new here."

"Thought I didn't recognize you," she said with a smile, tapping into her computer keyboard. "Welcome to Aro's."

"Thanks," I said awkwardly, trying not to think of Madame Esme saying a very similar thing to me on my first day at _Force. _

"Okay..." she said, squinting at her screen. "So you're in Class A, obviously."

"'Class A'?" I repeated.

"The only third year class we have here," she gave a bland smile. "They've usually ferreted out all the duds by that point."

I swallowed, "Right."

She put two pieces of paper in front of me, "Your schedule," she said, pointing to one. "And a map of the campus. Boarding houses are just down the street. I'm sure someone will show you how to get there." She pulled out a white lanyard with a silver key card attached. "Your dorm and room key and your swipe card for pretty much every door in this building." The girl looked at me pointedly, "Do _not _lose this or give it to anyone else or you'll be in a whole load of trouble."

"Got it," I said, putting the lanyard around my neck. It felt like a noose. What was I getting myself into here? A whole new school, a whole new life? Could I really do this?

The girl stepped out from behind the desk. I hadn't seen it properly, but now I could tell she had the physique of a dancer, standing there in her black tights and heels. "You dance?" I asked as she led me through a set of double grey doors to the left, the little light flashing green as she swiped her card.

"Not anymore," she said. We were in a light, open corridor. One wall was made of panes of glass and doors leading out to a large, sunbathed courtyard. In the centre of the courtyard, surrounded by a shallow square pool of water was a polished metal sculpture of a dancer, her leg flung up behind her, arm reaching high.

"That's a shame," I said awkwardly, my mind too jumbled to think properly.

"It is," she said briskly. "But hey, working here's not so bad. Surrounded by ballet but without the pulled muscles and sweat and tears." _And without the passion and the joy of dancing yourself, _I thought, knowing she was probably thinking the same thing. Watching and actually doing it was incomparable.

"Okay," she said as we reached an elevator. _An elevator, _I thought. _Oh, Violet would be screaming with glee if she were here..._ "So there are five floors. Studios on the top floor are specifically for student rehearsal, studios on level four will be where most of your classes will be. This bottom floor is pretty much just offices and a few classrooms. Level three's mostly for the juniors and level two is the academics floor."

"Right," I said, knowing that I'd forget it all in a few seconds.

The elevator door pinged open. We got in and stood awkwardly as it rose up to Level Four. "Here we go," she said. We stepped out into another long corridor which looked similar to the last, but looked down this time onto the courtyard and the statue. Also, I noticed, there were windows set into the walls.

We began walking. I looked in the windows as we passed. They were all studios, spacious and well lit. Classes were in every single one, most taking barre, but other doing tap and contemporary. Each class seemed to be in different colours – green, white, dark blue, light blue, pale pink. "You wear a different colour depending on grade," the woman said. "We go right from ten to eighteen."

A couple of girls in white leotards hurried past us, giggling as they ran into one of the studios.

"What's my colour?" I asked.

She laughed, "Red, of course. Class A – you're royalty."

She heard a hint of spite in her voice. I wondered what grade she'd got up to.

We turned a corner. It appeared that the building went around the whole courtyard. It was kind of cool...

"Alright," the girl said, stopping outside the door of a changing room. "This is where I leave you." She handed me one final piece of paper. "You can keep your bag in here until the end of the day. Just give this slip to your teacher when you come in and you'll be fine. Your class is just the fourth on the left."

"Thanks," I said.

She hesitated, her fingers playing with a pendant around her neck. "I wish I didn't have to say this...but good luck."

"Uh, thanks," I said awkwardly.

With a small smile she headed back down the corridor.

I slipped into a cool and empty changing room with that unchanging scent of hairspray and perfume. The similarity was comforting – and it was pretty much the only similarity I was seeing.

I got changed quickly, feeling stupid for not checking the uniform specifications. Instead, I pulled on a plain black leo and the usual pink tights and figured at least I wasn't in one of Alice's outfits.

I slipped out of the dressing room and counted down the doors. My nerves were thrumming in me. I saw the figures of tall dancers' bodies through the window. My new class...my new school.

I knocked on the door and then entered.

"And one and two and releve! And down into penche!"

There was a swish of fabric as the nine dancers in the room all smoothly bent down, their legs reaching high above them, hands reaching toward the floor. Each of them held it with no difficulty – no one even shook or lost balance.

"And up into arabesque!"

Everyone rose with easy control. And as they rose, still in perfect form, all eyes turned to where I stood, regarding me curiously. And I just stood there, feeling like an idiot – as if somehow I was a fake, dressed up like a ballet dancer when, quite frankly, this class was showing me _exactly _what a ballet dancer was meant to be. And I was not it. From two moves, I could see I wasn't in the equivalent of Madame Cox's class. I was in the elite class. Where I shouldn't be.

"And through into front développé – keep your chin up, Danny! Come on!"

The woman giving the orders was standing near the back of the three columns of dancers, correcting the dancers on the barre by the windows. From behind, I could see she had long brown hair tied up in a low pony tail and the physique of a dancer who had certainly not given up training. "And turn to face the barre," she instructed, fixing someone's turnout. "Keep the releve..."

"Vicky," said someone – a girl, halfway back, with messy black hair and sharp eyebrows raised high in curiosity as she nodded at me. "Visitor."

The teacher finally turned toward me. "Oh," she said, waving at the pianist over in the far corner to stop. Her teacher heels clunking, she strode up to the front, coming into clear view. She was young – really young. She couldn't have been out of her twenties and yet she was teaching a top level class. She had a typical ballet dancer's face, pointed chin and high cheekbones, and a long neck which made her seem elegant even when she was standing with her hands on her hips, lips twisted to the side in concentration, looking me up and down and nodding like I was confirming something...

Awkwardly, I held out the paper the receptionist had given me. She took it and read with raised eyebrows. The class had paused now, exchanging glances and looking at me, obviously trying to decide what I was doing here. Nervously, I looked at them. Five guys, five girls, all dressed in scarlet leotards and t-shirts, white tights for the girls and black for the boys.

All of them had this kind of confidence about them – they stood tall, like they owned the place. _Like royalty_. In Madame Cox's class, we'd all deferred to her as soon as the music stopped, usually slouching and regaining our breath. These guys looked like professionals...and they looked at me, quite correctly, like I wasn't.

I looked down at my ballet slippers and the polished light wood floor and tried to convince myself I had some sort of reason to be here.

Eventually, the teacher looked up, "Bella, is it?"

"Yes, Ma'am," I replied, my voice quiet.

The class burst out laughing.

I glanced around, not getting it. The teacher grinned, turning to her pupils, "Well, that'd be a first. Wish some of you would have that same courtesy, right Gerry?"

A tall guy with the beginnings of a beard dropped to his knees at the back of the studio, "Oh, you know I _worship _you, Vicks!"

She rolled her eyes, "Right."

"Who is she?" the same black-haired girl from earlier said, gesturing with her chin toward me.

Vicky – that seemed to be her name – took a deep breath and turned to the class, "This is Bella, your new classmate."

The silence was deafening.

They just looked at each other, some in confusion and others – like the blonde girl – in total disbelief. "Seriously?" she said eventually.

Vicky – did she not have a last name? – looked at her bluntly, losing the air of joviality. "Do I look like I'm joking, Leah?"

Leah shrugged, "Valid question. I mean..." she held out her hands as if gesturing to something that everyone but me could see.

"None of that," Vicky said. "This is a technique class; we learn technique. And as far as I know, technique is not a team sport, so you can take your issues elsewhere. Bella is a scholarship student – she's earned her place here. Deal with it. Now battements!"

The piano started again and everyone reluctantly turned back to the barre, still exchanging looks with each other.

"Bella," Vicky said. "You can go to the back and warm up – join us for centre."

I nodded and went to the vacant back barre.

I knew I was being watched as I put my gear down and began my plies. Why did the moves I had been doing every morning for months, _years, _feel so wrong and awkward now? But I could feel the judgement in their eyes, even though I kept my gaze firmly set on my reflection.

_Block it out, _I told myself. I searched my head something to focus on. But of course, it had to be _Force. _It was their first day back, too. Violet and Eliza would be whispering about their Christmas escapades behind Madame Cox's back. Alice and Jasper would probably be exchanging sneaky missed-you-so-much looks across the studio. Ben would be off in his usual daydream, watching the snow that was inevitably falling outside the window. And Edward?

I gripped the barre harder as I performed my tendus. _Edward, _I thought. _What are you doing? What are you thinking? Who are you with? _ Was he with Tanya? Standing behind her at the barre, appreciating every perfect point of her foot and extension of her arm? Whilst I was here in Seattle, in this class full of dancers who were all way too good for me, struggling to complete a single plie. But I didn't even know if Tanya was back at _Force. _Maybe she was with the US Ballet Academy instead? Or in a company? _Would Tanya really pass up an opportunity to get back to Edward? _And then that awful image of Tanya and Edward together...no, I realized, she won't lose Edward again. _I've been replaced..._

"Is your posture always like that, Bella?"

I blinked as Vicky suddenly appeared in front of me, eyebrow raised.

"Sorry, ma'am," I said quietly and fixed my turnout.

There was another snigger from the class, showing that they were all listening.

She frowned, "Rotate your hips more – tilt..." she huffed and swiftly put a hand on my tailbone and pushed. "Better," she said, then shook her head. "Did Carlisle Cullen seriously not teach you any of this?"

"I – "

"Carlisle Cullen?"

Everyone had stopped. The piano fell silent. Nine faces turned toward me. It was the guy who'd been on his knees before – Gerry? – who had spoken. He stared at me now with an incredulous look on his face.

"You go to _Force?" _Leah said, the first words anyone had directed to me.

_Breathe, Bella... _I dropped my hand from the barre and stood straighter, "I used to."

"What are you doing here?" the words came in an almost incomprehensible French accent from a girl with golden blonde hair who stood by the window, looking me up and down.

Leah stepped forward, eyes dark, "This isn't your place."

_I know it isn't... _"I had to change schools," I said quietly. "And Aro's offered me a scholarship."

"Bull," Leah scoffed. "That doesn't happen, not for _Force _students, and not into the Royals."

Some part of my tired, confused brain snapped then, "Well apparently it does because I'm here."

What was left of their surprise fell away and they all openly glared.

Leah didn't falter, she folded her arms and smirked at me in a way which would put Lauren to shame. "Let's see, then," she said curtly. "Just how well you fare here, _Force."_

"Enough," Vicky said, clapping her hands. Shouldn't she have stopped it two minutes ago? "Put away the barre, come into the centre. Let's get going."

Talk broke out as they wheeled the portable barre off to the side and got into three lines. All of them talked together, one unit. About me.

"Alright, looking front, people!"

I shuffled into the back row next to a tall, thin guy who at least was focussed on the teacher and not on bad mouthing me.

Vicky began marking out a complex combination. I could hardly concentrate. "Alright, run it through once together and then in threes."

The piano played the intro.

Everyone executed the moves perfectly from the beginning, as if they'd known this combination since they were three. All their legs seemed long and extended and they moved in sync, flowing from move to move. I stumbled along in the back, mixing up the steps and somehow never being in time.

"It's à la seconde," murmured the guy next to me, continuing to dance perfectly as he spoke. "Not derrière. That's why you're missing the beat."

I made the adjustment – it worked..."Thank you," I whispered as we finished with a demi plie.

He just nodded, still not looking, and moved to the back of the studio.

I stayed in the right back corner whilst everyone else congregated in the left. I watched the guy who'd helped me closely as he lined up with two of the three other guys to perform the combo.

The music began. It was clear from the beginning that he was better than either of them. His movements were even more fluid than theirs, his hands more graceful, gliding into each move. He focussed on his reflection with an intense gaze, a little furrow in his brow as he worked.

_Is he...Jacob Black?_ I watched as he completed a jete, landing softly on the floor. Looking closer, I could see he really was quite scrawny, with brown hair just reaching into his eyes. So he was Edward's competition? Edward's 'enemy'? I frowned; he was good...but not anywhere close to Edward. Everyone here was technically amazing, and Jacob Black, it seemed, was even more amazing...but his musicality and overall _dancing _just weren't up there...

My mind slipped back to the many images I had of Edward dancing, how he was so perfect, so in tune with the music that you forgot everything, every ballet term and technique, every problem, every other thing that was going on and just...watched. No, this Jacob Black wasn't as good. _Edward has nothing to worry about, _I thought with a stupid amount of satisfaction. _Not that it should matter..._

"Bella!" Vicky was calling. "Or do I have to call you Lady Swan to get your attention?"

"Sorry," I muttered embarrassedly. No one laughed. They just exchanged looks. I hurried to where I was meant to be, next to Leah and the French girl, and we began the combination.

Perhaps I could have gotten through if it hadn't been for Leah staring at me in the mirror, looking directly in the eye, challenging me. I went in and out of the arabesque fine, but as soon as the pirouette came I stumbled, not able to balance.

"Hasn't anyone taught you to spot?" Vicky said, folding her arms and leaning against the barre. "Come on!"

"Scholarship student, huh?" Leah muttered with a smile as we finished. She turned to me, "You must have a very rich daddy backing you, sweetheart."

I turned away, ignoring her.

The class went on in much the same way. No one else spoke to me, aside from Vicky. She treated me the same as the others – it seemed that she always delivered corrections in that incredulous how-can-you-not-know-this? tone. However, whilst she was still reminding me to turn out and point my toes, the others were getting complex feedback with words I'd never even heard of.

Class finished differently to _Force. _There were no curtsies. Instead, everyone lined up and one by one thanked Vicky and shook her hand.

"I hope you were just going easy today, Bella," she said as she shook my hand.

I nodded mutely. I doubted there were going to be any miracles between now and tomorrow. I had been trying my best.

"Amanda," Vicky called to a girl who was about to leave with the rest of the group. "Show Bella to her classes, yeah?"

She just nodded.

Quickly, I grabbed my stuff and hurried to follow the girl out into the crowded corridors, clogged with students in all their different coloured leotards heading to their next classes. The rest of my class were all in a big group of scarlet ahead of us, ignoring the other students who parted to make way for them.

"Thank you so much for this," I said to my new classmate. She was very thin and delicate-looking, a little shorter than me.

"You're welcome." She didn't say anything else, just pushed a stray blonde curl back into her tight bun, raised her chin and kept walking.

The next class turned out to be pointe for the girls and conditioning for the boys. I felt the hostility in the studio like a hot, sharp blade. 'Unwelcome' didn't even begin to describe how I was feeling as I struggled through the class. The teacher, who hadn't bothered to introduce herself, seldom looked at me as she made her rounds, despite there only being six of us. No one spoke to me, though I was still getting looks from people between combinations.

"This has never happened before," a red haired girl muttered to the French girl. "What do you think Caius is thinking?"

"_Je ne sais pas," _she replied. "But it is ridiculous."

The redhead nodded in agreement and they both stepped onto the floor for a batterie.

The day wore on. After pointe was contemporary, something which _Force _had never really pushed us on. But here it was as serious as a technique class and I couldn't keep up.

"And drop into second!" the teacher was an enthusiastic, young Canadian man with a loud voice. He'd introduced himself as Mark. "Get your butts down! Bend your knees!" He strolled through the three lines, unfazed by the flying limbs. He stood to my left and watched me.

_Keep going..._but I could practically _feel_ his raised eyebrow as he looked at me trying to do my pirouettes. _Focus! _I set my eyes determinedly on the wall and spun faster, letting the air whip around my waist.

"Easy there," he said, reaching out a hand in warning. "I think you might – "

But I was already spinning so fast that I couldn't spot. I hit the ground with an 'oomph'.

"_This _is what _Force _has to offer?" I didn't even need to look to know it was Leah. Not that I could look; the room was still spinning.

"Leah, zip it," Mark instructed candidly. He knelt down next to me, a big smile on his face. "Having fun?"

"You bet," I muttered, so fed up.

He laughed and offered me a hand up, "Just remember to breathe when you turn."

I nodded and the music continued. I didn't exactly improve, but I didn't fall again, either.

"Maybe we should buy her some kneepads," I heard the muscular, bearded guy mutter as we paused for a break.

A couple of girls nearby snickered and he winked at them.

The end of class could not have come sooner. Out of habit, when he dismissed us I stepped into a curtsy position instead of lining up, and so I ended up at the back of the line. Would anyone bother to wait for me?

"Thank you," I said when I finally reached the instructor.

He raised his eyebrow again, "Really?"

I blushed and looked away, "Not really."

He laughed warmly, "Miss Swan, I do believe I am very disappointed."

My heart sunk only a little more – there's only so far a heart can sink. But then he said, "I was told you were a girl to be far too forward at the best of times, and ruthlessly passionate when it came to your dance."

I frowned, "You know me?"

He grinned, smile lines showing around the corners of his lips, "Know of. Well, I had a very irritating Frenchman talking my ear off about you for an hour over Christmas dinner."

_Frenchman? _A smile crept across my face, "Carlisle?"

Mark barked out another loud laugh, taking a swig of water from his bottle, "You look like a starving cat who's just seen its dinner!"

I let out a startled laugh. It was kind of preposterous, but after all the day's trials, I was weak to his weird simile.

"That's better," he said. "Honestly, you looked even more miserable than Leah when she found out I was her teacher."

"That's harsh," I said.

He shrugged, "When it comes to that girl, 'harsh' takes on a _whole _different meaning."

"But how do you know Master Carlisle?" I asked. _When everyone here seems to be anti-_Force...

"'_Master' _Carlisle is my uncle," Mark said. "And he has made you my sole responsibility here at _Force."_

"Oh," I blushed again. "I'll be fine..."

He laughed, "You didn't look fine before. Besides, you should know never to defy Carlisle Cullen's orders."

I bit my lip. _Except that I have about ten thousand times._

"Anyways," Mark said. "Just know that I'm looking out for you, so that's one Colaianni down and only some ridiculous number to go."

"Thanks," I said. The smile felt real upon my face.

"And don't worry too much about those 'Royals'," he shook his head. "They're territorial, but they're a good bunch once you get to know them. You'll fit in here soon enough."

* * *

><p>I'm on proper holiday for the first time in eighteen months so I promise another chapter will be out soon!<p>

Also, Tudor London has had two new chapters added recently! So please do have a peek!

**And, lastly, please review and tell me what you think!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10

Hello!

I love holidays XD I have time to write!

**Thanks so much for all your reviews! I just love knowing what you think of what's going on - both good criticism and bad.**

**I really appreciate it! You are my inspiration! Thanks so, so much!**

****Short author's note for a very long chapter!

You'll see why I couldn't end it early, though...hehehe...

**Please review!**

**And enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>A Thousand Years - The Piano Guys (Fantastic arrangement by a fantastic group - check them out!)<em>

_Uprising - Muse_

* * *

><p>Amanda and Jacob were standing in the corridor when I came out, talking. They stopped when they saw me.<p>

"Thanks for waiting," I said awkwardly. There was a lot of awkwardness today, it seemed. _If it ever ends..._

Amanda just nodded, but Jacob gave me a smile, "All good. It's lunchtime anyway."

_Thank God, _I thought. _Walking and sitting hopefully shouldn't instigate any more falls..._

We walked down a glass-walled stairwell to get down to the ground floor this time. No one spoke. Jacob was texting and Amanda just looked forward.

"So your name's Bella, right?" Jacob said as we emerged outside in the courtyard. Though it was still freezing, the sun shone down and groups of students were dotted here and there, chatting. My class, though their scarlet leotards were now covered up by cardigans and sports jackets, still seemed to dominate over everything as they crossed the courtyard to a set of double doors marked 'cafeteria'.

"Uh, yeah," I said, drawing my eyes away from the Royals. I looked up at him. "So you're Jacob? Jacob Black?"

He gave some sort of cross between a snort and a cough. He and Amanda had both stopped. "Uh, what?"

_Oh crap... _"Sorry," I said. "I just uh...got told he danced like you."

The not-Jacob-Black and Amanda shared a look. Even she looked kind of amused.

He looked back to me, "Well, thanks for the compliment, but I am nowhere near." He smiled and held out a hand. "I'm Seth."

I shook it, "Think I'll remember that now. Seth, not Jacob."

"Very flattering, though," Seth said, his gaze seemed to drift off for a second.

"But who is it, then?" I asked, frowning. My next choice would have been the bearded guy, Gerry...but he was Gerry. "I got told he was in your class."

Seth nodded, returning, "Yeah, he is."

"So, uh..." I looked over at the rest of the class, who had stopped by the fountain. "Which one is he?"

"He's not here yet," he said.

"But shouldn't he be in class?"

Another glance was exchanged. "He'll turn up sometime before the end of the week," Seth said.

"Or next week," Amanda said blankly. She started to walk toward the cafeteria. We followed along.

"He keeps to his own schedule," Seth said in reply to my unanswered question. "Pretty much does what he wants." This was seeming seriously improbable; Edward's arch rival didn't even attend class? How was he meant to match Edward, who spent every waking hour in the studio? _Well, apart from when he's making out with Tanya._

Nothing more was said about it. The cafeteria was so different to _Force's _dining hall. There were no chandeliers, no dais for the teachers, who I assumed were eating elsewhere. There were certainly no tapestries. No ceiling decorated with heavenly paintings of angels dancing with their cavaliers.

Instead, like every room here, it was spacious and brightly lit. The floor to ceiling windows let the winter light flood in from the courtyard. The walls were white and adorned with block-mounted photos of more dancers. Everyone sat around circular tables, chatting and laughing loudly. Bags lay on the floor, people moved around. It wasn't formal dining. It looked like an ordinary school cafeteria, except everyone was super-slim and I doubted much of the talk was about the latest ice hockey scores.

Whilst I'd stopped to take in the room, Amanda and Seth had moved into the lunch queue and I ended up far behind them. By the time I'd grabbed my salad, they were already sitting at a big table by the windows with the eight others in the class. They weren't as energetic and loud as the students at the other tables. Instead, they looked like adults, talking quietly with each other, keeping to themselves. Royals. It continued to make sense.

There were no spare seats at their table, though. Not for me.

I ended up sitting at a table in the far corner of the cafeteria, across from a boy and a girl who were in brown leotards. They looked at me kind of gormlessly when I asked if I could sit down. I saw them eyeing my leotard straps, not understanding, I guessed, how anyone with a non-regulation colour could exist. But they must have decided that I looked older than them and nodded.

I sat opposite to them and spent my time looking down at the lettuce on my plate. They soon forgot I was there and began talking again. Apparently they were 'dating', but the girl hadn't been spending enough time with the guy. There were a lot of silences between them. I heard the girl sniff. Cruelly, I almost felt like laughing. They thought they had relationship issues?

_Try having a world class dancer for a boyfriend when you're two grades below him and can't even perform basic Pas de Deux choreography. And then throw in a scholarship to his enemy academy which you didn't bother to tell him about until his rich father turns up and demands to see you dance even though you're still recovering from an injury which your boyfriend's ex-partner gave you in front of a huge audience because she was jealous of a non-existent relationship between you and said boyfriend. But she's okay because when your scholarship got found out, she was the one to go and cheer up your boyfriend by making out with him just as you walked in the door to return a ring which he never would have given you if he'd known you were lying to him the whole time. So now you're miles away from him in a school which hates you because you've come from another school which hates you and everything's just so, freaking – _

I slammed my fork down a little too loudly, startling the two kids. "Sorry," I muttered, grabbed my bag and fled, pushing past people without a care. I felt Leah's eyes appraising me as I passed their table and, gasping, burst out into the fresh air.

I wanted to scream. To catch my breath. To cry. But every wall was a freaking window!

I dug my nails into my bag strap, bit the inside of my cheek and set off across the courtyard and back into a corridor. There – a changing room.

I pushed through the door and into the cool, dark, windowless room. _Thank God, _I thought, and collapsed against the cold wall, sliding down to the ground. I pulled my knees to my chest and hid my face in the darkness.

This pain wasn't bearable, surely? How could I deal with this? How could I go on from here?

That final image of Edward standing in the window, his fist clenched, watching me...

_Edward! _I gripped my knees harder. _No, no, no...I can't think like this..._

But there was no way of stopping the pain. No way of stopping the tears staining my tights or the hatred I already felt for this school and these people. _I don't want to be here, _I thought helplessly. _I don't want to be in this place!_

The events of the day only added to my hysteria. I couldn't fit in here. I couldn't dance like the others. And they were never going to invite me into their group. I was always going to be an outsider here. Even when my class had turned against me at _Force, _I'd still had Alice. I'd still had Madame Cox. And I had known somewhere that I was going to get through it all because I had faith in my dancing. I _knew _I was good enough. But here? How could I ever match them, or even come close? There was no way this could ever work.

_I have no other choice, though. I have to keep going..._

\*\*/*/

And so I did.

There were two more classes after lunch – repertoire and partnering, neither of which I was looking forward to. Rep wasn't something First Years did at Force, but I knew that the Third Years had. It was learning segments of ballets that every dancer was expected know – Black Swan, Odette, Rose Adagio and the like. It wasn't just solo variations, though; corps and trios and quartets and pas de deuxs were meant to be taught as well.

But I knew only one variation – the Gamzatti. That wasn't going to get me far.

When I found the studio, there were only girls there, and they were already stepping into their red practice tutus and taking _fans _out of their bags.

I felt like groaning before I even walked in. The Act Three Kitri Variation from Don Quixote. It certainly was one of those classics; kind of overdone, but important and striking nonetheless. It was fast, short, hard and involved snapping a fan in and out and fluttering it around – as if the choreography wasn't difficult enough already.

At least I didn't have to embarrass myself again. Everyone else was so far ahead that they were sent off to practise and the teacher taught me the steps alone.

She was around Madame Cox's age, but without any of her rebellious or passionate traits. She was clear, though. That was all I could possibly ask for from any of these teachers.

After the bell rung, she gave me a list of what I would need for the remainder of the year – a classic tutu, a romantic tutu, a wrap skirt and, of course, the dreaded fan. All in red.

I arrived late to partnering – without any Royals to follow, I was stuck with a map and a building that was pretty much symmetrical and consequently incredibly confusing to navigate through. When I eventually spotted a red leotard in a window I was already fifteen minutes late.

I went in, ignoring the glances being exchanged between my classmates. The teacher, a middle-aged man who still had the toned muscles of a danseur, stopped the pianist only briefly. "You're the new student?" he said.

"Yes – " I stopped myself from saying 'sir'.

He gave me a quick once-over. "Have you partnered before?"

I nodded, "For the last few months."

The teacher gave a dissatisfied look, "That's not very long. Your teacher?"

I glanced at my class, "Carlisle Cullen."

"Hmm," he stroked his chin. "I suppose I'll have a lot to live up to, then."

Across the room, Leah gave a barely concealed snort.

"Thank you for volunteering, Leah," the teacher said. He turned back to me, "You can go with Seth. Leah, you're on spotting duty."

Leah gave Seth a punch on the shoulder and wandered up to the front. "Have fun, _Force," _she said to me with a facetious smile and patted me on the arm. I flinched away from her touch. She raised her eyebrow in challenge. I did nothing. Eventually, she flicked a piece of her fringe out of her eyes and went to stand next to the teacher.

"Alright, let's begin, shall we?" he said, rubbing his hands together. Seth didn't look at me as I took my place in front of him. "Today I want to look at three lifts – fish, butt sit and that modern one from _Petite Mort _that you guys have been bothering me about."

"Sweet!" I heard Gerry exclaim, bumping fists with the guy next to him. Everyone looked pleased. I had no idea what he meant by anything, except the fish. But even that turned out to be entirely different to anything I'd done at _Force._

I'd missed the warm up, and so we were right into it before I could catch my breath.

"Alright, we'll start off with doing the combo from last term and see exactly what you're doing wrong. One by one! Let's go."

With no talk, everyone moved to the back and, with no argument about placing, slipped into a line.

"What do we do?" I whispered to Seth. Everyone turned and looked at me for a second, as if to just reaffirm my ignorance, and then turned back to watch the French girl – Adela, I had found out, was her name – and her partner set off across the studio floor.

"Just watch," Seth said to me. "Mark it out."

I tried. I fumbled along; doing pseudo copies of each girl's steps as they easily and too quickly crossed the floor. But it was the central move, the fish dive, which terrified me. It wasn't the basic lift and bend thing I'd been taught at _Force. _ I watched Amanda and Gerry fluidly side step as one. Then, he put his hands on her waist and helped her star jump into the air. When she was at her highest point, he let go.

My breath froze in my lungs. She fell alone, from so high...

But then, as easily as if they were shaking hands, he caught her, wrapping an arm around her back thigh, another around her stomach and dipped her into a low fish dive.

"Okay," the teacher – Mister York, I'd heard someone say – clapped his hands. "See what I mean? You're losing the smoothness in the dip."

"Like chunky salsa?" Gerry asked, scratching his beard. Everyone groaned. He raised his eyebrows at Amanda, who blushed and looked away. Weirdly, I felt Seth stiffen at my side. I glanced up at him, but his face was blank. _Odd..._

Mister York promptly thwacked Gerry on the back of the head.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, laughing, then threw an arm round Amanda's shoulders. "Fine, I'll take my nachos elsewhere!" And he flounced off to the back of the line.

"_As _I was saying, the fluidity is lost when you come down from the catch. And it's your fault, boys...Leah?" She stepped forward. He expertly lifted her up and then easily caught her, "Now, notice I'm keeping my arms at the right length, keeping some distance. And..." He swung her back into a dive in one single motion. Leah stayed perfectly straight and graceful in his hands. "Got it?" he looked around the boys, who were nodding.

Seth, too, was looking confident. Mister York put Leah down and nodded to us, "Alright, let's see what you've got!"

_At least with Mike, I knew that we were equally as bad..._

The music started. _Glissade, glissade, turn..._this was okay – Seth's hands just rested on my waist the whole time. _Okay..._

We side stepped quickly, I bent my knees, he gripped my waist, and I was launched up into the air. My classmates' faces blurred.

_And he lifted me into the air, as if I were a bird he was setting free..._

And then he let go.

"_You have no faith in us, do you? You never did."_

"No!" I flung my arms down, grappling for anything to hold onto. Seth's hands slipped from where he'd been about to place them. My leg kicked and met his knee. We both fell to the ground.

"_Shit!" _Seth cursed, pushing himself away from me, a hand grasping his knee.

"Sorry," I gasped. My nails dug hard into my palms. _What was _wrong_ with me? _Seth didn't reply – he just clutched his knee. "I'm so sorry..."

Amanda and Adela knelt down next to him, their faces full of concern. Gerry jogged out of the room, muttering something about ice.

I looked up at my classmates. They stared back down at me. There was no condescension anymore; it was more like repulsion. And it wasn't like Lauren and Megan on my first day at _Force. _These people had a right to be repulsed by me. I was an intruder in their group – their family. And I couldn't dance like them. I was just ruining everything.

"Right, now," Mister York said eventually. "Up you get."

Feeling like a criminal, I shakily stood. Mister York's eyes were full of pity. He patted me on the back, "I think you should just sit the rest of today out, yes?"

"Yes sir," I whispered. No one laughed at me this time. No one said a word.

"Now," Mister York cleared his throat. "Back in position, let's go."

Adela and Amanda helped Seth over to the opposite corner to where I sat myself, curling my knees up against my chest again. He was wincing. And it was my fault.

\*\*/*/

It was dark when I left through the polished glass doors of _Aro Colaianni's. _No one else was around – I'd deliberately stayed right to the end of dinner to avoid them. A light drizzle was falling, making the lights of cars reflect off the wet streets. I pulled my scarf a little tighter, making a pocket of warm air. I liked being alone. At least I couldn't hurt anyone else.

The sound of the traffic, though, was reassuringly normal. What did the people in those cars care if I couldn't execute a fish dive? If my feet kept sickling or if I didn't know every piece of classical choreography of the past two hundred years? They were just ordinary people, going home from work, going out to dinner, thinking about their deadlines and upcoming parties. What I was doing as a dancer...it seemed like the world, but, really, it wasn't.

_But it's _my _world, _I thought. _It's all I want; all I have. And now it's crumbling..._

It wasn't far to the boarding houses. I only needed to wheel my suitcase around the corner and down to the end of the block to find six identical white townhouses in a row. Each had a quaint garden in the front with rose bushes and small trees. Attached to the gates was a plaque the school's emblem and the year group. The last one was 'Class A'. Someone had tied a big red ribbon to one of the posts. Lights were on inside, making it even less inviting.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the gate and walked up the garden path to the door. I felt as if I should knock, but there was a swipe card unit on the frame. _This is where I live from now on, _I tried to remind myself. I grabbed my card from my bag. The door opened with a clunk.

Immediately, loud music and the smell of hairspray and deodorant assaulted me. I was in a narrow cream-painted corridor. Like every wall, it seemed, in _Aro's, _nailed to the walls were framed class photos. By the door, there were kids in pink and white, all posing in the splits, their arms in pretty little ovals above their heads. There were a lot more than eleven. The further down the corridor I got, the fewer faces there were. The colours changed, until eventually, by an open door, they were standing tall and poised in their royal scarlet, chins up, shoulders back. Classically perfect.

"I'm serious," I heard a voice over the music, coming from the open door. Leah – _what a surprise! _"It's like Aro's stuck his fountain pen in his brain! What was he thinking?"

"She won't survive here, L," was that Gerry? "Don't worry."

"Wonder what Jake will say."

Leah snickered, "You know him; wouldn't let his pretty knees get anywhere _near _her pointes."

"Someone's got to dance with her," I recognized Amanda's factual voice.

"I am _not _going there again," that was Seth. "At least she gave me an excuse not to."

"Does it still 'urt?"

"Margie said it'd be fine in a few days – just bruised."

"Go get a huge cast put on," Leah suggested. "Like Bridget in Class D. Robbie was your slave for weeks!"

"Hey, I didn't _kick _her!"

Ugh, I was _sick _of this! With a deep breath, I stepped into the doorway.

It was like the common room back at _Force –_ couches and beanbags all turned toward a glowing heater. There was a coffee table with dance magazines on it, and several empty mugs. Everyone was sprawled over the three couches or sitting on the floor in stretches. Seth had his leg propped up on a cushion. They all looked up at me expectantly.

"Um," I started. "I was just wondering where my room was?"

Leah luxuriously stretch forward in the splits, her forehead to her knees, "This isn't your castle,_ Force;_ we don't have private chambers for every student."

"I know," I said, not that I did. "And I was in a dorm with nineteen other girls at _Force."_

"Sure, _Force," _Gerry said, throwing his arm on the back of the couch, behind Adela. "Unless you were, like, a First Year, that's bullshit."

"Just tell me where I'm sleeping," I huffed. My tiredness was testing my patience.

Leah and Bridget, the redhead, exchanged a look. With a final stretch, Leah stood up. Bridget followed suit, tossing her long red plait over her shoulder.

They brushed past me and out into the hallway. I hesitated in the doorway. "I'm sorry, Seth," I said quietly. "For what I did to your knee. It's just..." I looked down. "It's just partnering."

"Kind of a major component of ballet," Gerry said. "What do you want to be? Backstage?"

I gritted my teeth and looked back to Seth. "Sorry."

He gave me the hint of smile, "Accidents happen. Just don't call me Jacob again."

"Do you _want _a bed?" I heard Leah call from the stairs.

"Wait, what?" said one of the guys.

I turned and followed Leah and Bridget up the stairs, heaving my suitcase behind me. There was a burst of laughter from downstairs. I guessed that Seth had told everyone about my little slip up. If these guys were this bad, what _was_ Jacob Black going to be like?

The second floor was just a short corridor with doors on either side. "Girls are on the left, guys on the right," Leah said, waiting for me to pull myself up the final few steps. "Bathrooms are the last door on the left. If ours is full, go in the guys'. They don't give."

She glanced at me, "Unless you're too prissy for that kinda thing."

I didn't say anything.

Leah opened a door halfway down and flicked on the lights. It was a medium sized room with three single beds, each with a desk by it. Two beds and desks stood on either side of a window. Both of their walls were covered with posters and photos, mostly of themselves. I could tell which one was Leah's straight away – one bedspread was pink with white polka dots, the other was screwed up, but I could vaguely make out Freddie Mercury's face above the black and gold lettering of 'We Will Rock You'. I sincerely doubted Leah was a pink kind of girl.

"That one's yours," Leah said, pointing to the bed by the door. It was covered with clothes. Quickly, Bridget picked them up in a heap and dumped them between their two beds.

She and Leah looked at each other contemplatively. "Tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Leah said, and they both cracked up. "We're gonna get Feathers up here again!"

"Last time!"

I awkwardly stood there as they finished their laughter.

"Alright," Leah finally said. "That's it. You'd better not snore. And don't touch anything that isn't yours."

"Thanks," I muttered as they went out.

I shut the door closed behind them and fell back onto the plain white bedspread, my mind in turmoil and my body aching.

\*\*/*/

The days that followed were almost as bad as the first. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't even _begin _to keep up with the Royals. Even though the teachers were constantly correcting them and chastising them, to me they seemed almost flawless.

And so I went into every class knowing I was going to stick out like a sore thumb and probably make some embarrassing mistake, possibly many. I had become the class' entertainment. The Royals' fool. And they continued to treat me like it.

Every morning, I was the last to arrive at the cafeteria because there were only three girls' showers and there was no way I was going to use the guys' showers. Every evening, I was the last to leave. When I got back to the boarding house, they would almost inevitably all be in the sitting room, talking. I spent my evenings nursing my sore muscles and doing more homework than I'd done at normal school. With no social life, what else was there to do? At least if I failed in ballet, I would have incredibly good calculus skills.

By Sunday night, that thinking had grown into something awful. _I _am _failing at ballet, _I realized as I sat at my desk, flicking through a biology textbook. Everyone else was out at a skating rink or something, so I had the house to myself. _I won't pass the end of year exams. And if I don't pass those exams then I'll never get into a company, and my ballet career will be over before it even begins._

I put the textbook down with a thump. But my academics? If, _if _I went back to school for the rest of the year, I would still be able to graduate. My grades were still good enough. Maybe not enough to gain a scholarship, but enough to get into college. And from there? The world would always need more scientists or doctors. A doctor? I could do that...

_But it's not ballet, _I thought, and let my imagination go no further.

It crept back in, though, at breakfast the next morning. The table in the corner I now permanently shared with the girl in the brown leotard. She was always with someone, recounting her drama of the previous day. The boyfriend hadn't been back since my first day. From what I'd heard, it had now escalated into a full blown war between the two groups of friends – guys versus girls, all fighting honourably for their queen or king. Today, one of the boys was there with her, playing messenger.

"You just have to understand, Jenna – he loves you, he's just wants to spend more time with you."

"I love him, too," Jenna sniffled. "But he doesn't _get _me. I mean, if he doesn't understand the restraints of my career then how can we ever have a relationship in the future?"

I had decided that they'd all been watching way too much reality TV. They were, what, Thirteen? 'I love you' was for parents and grandmas, not 'boyfriends'. The likelihood of them still being together when they reached the age when it could actually mean something was pretty small. _Though, _I thought, _she is pretty good at the whole clinginess thing. _Still, he'd probably cheat on her before then. _Like Edward..._

The bell rung and there was the scraping of hundreds of seats as everyone got ready to go. I slung my bag over my shoulder, threw away my fruit salad and followed the crowd out. I wondered if the drama of the ballet world ever ended – if one day, everyone just got down to it and danced. But then, that defied the art itself. Ballet was about passion; dancers were meant to be over passionate and dramatic.

_But can I deal with that? _I thought as I stepped out into the cold, grey morning. The courtyard was full of students on their way to class, chattering and laughing. _I'm not exactly coping with everyone here. _

But what about being a doctor? That wasn't creative or artistic – there were set guidelines and rules; there was science which wouldn't need to be questioned. And sure, there would be a bit of Grey's Anatomy drama but the majority of it would just be caring for patients and signing medical certificates. Maybe I could be a paediatrician and help children with actual issues, not just thirteen-year-old Jenna's romance troubles.

And I would be good at it. Science was my strong point; I wouldn't be fumbling around a dance studio not knowing what to do. I would just read my textbook and get on with it. It wouldn't cause me any pain or –

Suddenly, there was the roar of an engine. Everyone in the courtyard stopped, looking around. I saw a black blur in the ground floor windows, in the corridor. _A motorbike? _I heard a cheer from the middle of the courtyard where the Royals stood.

"Hell _yeah!" _Gerry shouted.

"I don't believe it," Danny murmured in awe.

The motorbike skidded around the corner of the corridor, the glass walls letting everyone see him. The one student who was in the corridor leapt into a stairwell as he roared past. With a ninety degree turn, he rode out the open doors and into the courtyard, skidding to a halt in front of the Royals.

"Jesus," Gerry said with a grin.

"Almost," the guy said, climbing off. He was tall and _seriously_ muscular, even with his leather jacket on. His skin was tanned, his hair black and cropped. He was _hot. _

_Really _hot.

He pulled off his Raybans, revealing thickly lashed, dark brown eyes. He and Gerry clasped hands, "Finally back, huh?"

"Yeah," Leah said, strutting up as they pulled away. "Finally."

She looked at him with that terrifying fire in her eyes, but he just smirked, "You didn't miss me."

"Not a bit." And then she pulled her lips up to his. He chuckled and fastened his arms around her waist, pressing them closer together.

"Talk about PDA," Bridget said to the others.

With another chuckle, he broke it off. "So," he said, slinging an arm around Leah's shoulder and heading for the doors. "How is everyone?"

As I followed behind the babbling Royals, I watched the back of his head.

_So _this_ is Jacob Black..._

* * *

><p>*Deep breath*<p>

**Please flick me a review and tell me what you think!**

**I'll be updating as soon as possible!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	11. Chapter 11

Hello!

Hope all is well in your part of the World at the moment - raining here :D

Why am I talking about the weather? Well, I really should be studying right now but it started raining and I made a coffee and there was just that warm, fuzzy, 'don't-you-dare-stop-me-from-writing' feeling I very occasionally get which tells me it's no use - the breakdown of Vivaldi's Spring must wait! So must the laundry, my maths homework and an English reference.

I must write!

So, here I am :D Working on four hours sleep and a lot of coffee to bring you...half a chapter.

Yes! It got too long so I had to split it up :(

Still going on part two - should be up soon!

**Had some really interesting reviews last chapter - 'interesting' in the best way possible!**

**Thank you so much for your advice, concerns, need-to-bash-Bella-over-the-heads, and your kind words.**

**All of it together helps me to improve my writing and hopefully keep you guys entertained!**

****Anyways, without any further ado:

**Please review!**

**And Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Dirait-on, O Magnum Mysterium - Morten Lauridsen - Whether you're a choral lover or not, listen to these pieces! They transport you.<em>

_Battle Scars - Guy Sebastian and Lupe Fiasco - AWESOME!_

* * *

><p>"Caius is gonna kill you for that stunt," Robbie said. Class hadn't started yet, and they were all surrounding Jacob as they stretched. He lounged against the barre, not looking anything like a ballet dancer. <em>Or like Edward, <em>I thought.

"Oh I know," he said nonchalantly, drumming his fingers on the wood. "Anyone else got a detention this week?"

"It's eight o'clock on a Monday morning, Jake," said Gerry. "Only you are capable of getting a detention within the first two hours of waking life."

He shrugged, "My superiority knows no bounds..." he looked at Seth. "Hey, what's up with your knee?"

_Oh crap, _I thought, and tried to make myself look focussed on the tendus I was practising at the barre opposite all of them.

"I just hit it last week," Seth said. Out of all of them, Seth had been the kindest to me. Not exactly 'Alice' kind...okay, more like Rosalie kind, but he hadn't made the same snarky comments the others kept making.

"You mean _she _hit it," Leah said, putting her leg up in a stretch right next to Jacob's head. She glanced my way as she reached forward to grab her foot.

Jacob folded his arms, making his biceps stick out, and looked at me. "In Pas de Deux?" he asked, his dark eyes fixed on mine. I couldn't drop my gaze. This was Edward's enemy; Edward's arch rival.

"Yeah," Leah said. "In, like, a fish dive."

Jacob cocked his head to the side, studying me, "_Really,_ now?"

It was a rhetorical question, and it hung in the air between us as he continued to study me.

"Morning all," said Vicky, walking in in her usual black tights, skirt and long sleeved leotard.

"Hey Vix," Danny, who I'd decided was the excitable one of the group, said, jumping up and down. "Guess who's back?"

"I've heard," Vicky said mildly, putting down her handbag.

"Missed you, too, Victoria," Jacob said with a smirk, still leaning against the barre.

She rolled her eyes, "Where is your uniform?"

"Not into leather?" he retorted, but unzipped his leather jacket to reveal a fitted v-neck dark red t-shirt underneath. It made his tanned skin glow even more.

Vicky raised an eyebrow, "And I take it you're not planning on performing your grand jetés and battements in jeans? How embarrassing it would be to have to strut around with ripped jeans for the rest of the day." She shifted her weight onto the other foot, "Though I guess you enjoy making a spectacle of yourself."

He shrugged, "Hmm, guess I'll just take them off, then." And then he was undoing his belt.

"Seriously?" Vicky said, horrified.

But he pushed down his jeans to reveal black tights underneath.

Gerry snorted, "Beautiful expression, Vix."

She rolled her eyes and turned around to fix the music, "Positions at the barre, please!" I took my place as the one person on the back barre again.

"I'm disappointed," Leah said, looking over her shoulder at Jacob.

He smirked again and swatted her butt, "Later."

"Mister Black," Vicky said from the piano, still shuffling around sheet music. "It seems you've been out of ballet studios for such a long time that you've forgotten they have _mirrors._ Do you seriously want a _third _detention?"

"What was the second one for?" he asked, getting into line between Leah and Gerry.

"For being you, now pliés," she took a breath. "And down two and up and..."

"Not very PC, is she?" Jacob turned back as he pliéd to grin at Gerry.

Gerry chuckled, "But then, neither are you."

They both rose up again, "Hey, the president called me a 'model citizen'."

"That wasn't the president, J; it was that hooker we met last year in Paris."

Their banter went on for the entire class. For the first time since coming here, I actually had a distraction from thinking about how I was hopeless in comparison to everyone else. They joked and teased and really, really irritated Vicky. Gerry just had his usual cheekiness with her, except this time he had a playmate. But I sensed with Jacob that there was real dislike between them. Or at least frustration. Vicky didn't correct him like she did with everyone else – she just walked right on to the next person without bothering to look.

But he didn't seem to mind – he just kept on talking. She even gave up trying to tell him to shut up after a while.

From what I could see, though, he didn't need the corrections or the silence; every movement was performed perfectly, without any loss of balance or posture. But, of course, that was pretty much everyone in the Royals, save me.

It was only when we got to the floor that I saw him dance properly, though even then he spent most of his time fooling around.

We began the adagio combinations with one we'd done a few times last week. I felt relieved – I wasn't any better at remembering combinations on the spot; hopefully the weekend had cemented the steps in my memory.

"Alright, let's go!"

I got into line with Amanda and Danny. They were the best to group with, since Leah, Adela and Bridget all enjoyed glancing at me in the mirror just to put me off.

"And one two three four and..."

I stepped forward, raising my leg to the side and then touching my toe to my knee, I stretched out my leg high in a developpé.

"Listen to the music! Don't drop behind! And side, passé, back into attitude."

I pushed my leg back behind me. It was the first time I had wobbled on this move since I'd arrived.

"And move the arms to first." I looked at the mirror to check myself. Jacob stood staring at me from the back barre, his arms folded again, his eyes intense, as if I were the only dancer in the room. I swallowed. "Rise up to pointe." _Those eyes, _I thought. "Ow!" I suddenly screeched as my ankle buckled from under me. I stumbled. The piano stopped.

Vicky sighed exasperatedly, "I have told you ten thousand times to roll through your foot, Bella. It's basic footwork."

"Sorry," I puffed, massaging my ankle.

"Well did you roll it?" she snapped. "Do we need to call an ambulance?"

"It's just an old injury, ma'am," I said.

"Stop calling me 'ma'am'," Vicky said. She ran a hand through her hair, "God _knows _why they let you into this class!"

I gritted my teeth together and went to the back again. _Breathe, Bella, breathe..._I turned to the barre and tried a few exercises on my ankle.

"So you can see we haven't been without entertainment this past week, my friend," Gerry said. "We found a replacement for all your absences. Feel betrayed?"

"Utterly," Jacob said distractedly.

I didn't look up, afraid he was looking at me again.

"And boys, let's go!"

I turned around just as Jacob took his first step. His face took on a different expression – focussed; incredibly so. He watched his muscled arm flow out away from him, his neck arching, his whole body leaning toward the movement, as one long intake of breath. And then he stepped, slowing releasing the breath again, and his leg rose with such control, his hand drawing up the line of the leg as is extended high above his head. _Such control, such strength..._

His movements seemed so relaxed, in his own time, and yet they fit with the music so perfectly, never missing a beat.

He stepped and reached out above him, his gaze up into the sky – I hardly remembered we were in a studio – and then he turned. I felt my breaths go in and out with his movements, like phrases in music, like waves lapping in, sweeping out. The final steps came. He tiptoed up centre and finally reached one arm out front, bent his knee, and slowly, so, so slowly, raised his back leg into arabesque.

His form was one perfect line.

"Alright, next group up!"

I snapped out of my daze.

Jacob came sauntering back to the others, his breathing only a little laboured.

Gerry shook his head, "How the hell do you get off a motorbike you've ridden all the way from Canada and dance like that, dude?"

Jacob took a sip of water, "Natural talent."

Gerry snorted and punched him on the shoulder, "Natural conceitedness, too, JB."

"Ugh," Jacob groaned, wiping sweat off his neck. "Never call me that."

"But you have so much in common!" Leah exclaimed.

"Yeah," said Damien. "Natural conceitedness and talent."

"Do I still dance like I did when I was twelve, Damien?"

They laughed. "Point taken."

It was the same for the whole of floor – Jacob switched from joking and laughing to completely focussed in a single second. And he was always flawless. And strong – every move seemed so justified, so definite. If it had been wrong then I would have thought everyone else had made the mistake. There was no one else to look at but him. And, strangely, everyone else seemed to feel that. When it was his group's turn for a combination, the volume in the room dropped to just the piano and the soft sound of feet landing on the floor.

I tried to conjure up an image of Edward's dance. I tried to compare. But all I got was our last night together, when we were both tired and sweaty and sick of my mistakes:

_"Shit," I muttered, dropping out of the step. I heard Edward sigh behind me, but didn't bother to look. Once more, I went back to my position..._

_I turned again, careful this time that it was my left leg which lifted. But then I forgot to brace. Edward tried to lift me, but I wasn't prepared, and I slipped through his arms. With a grunt, Edward grabbed me, saving me from twisting my ankle again._

_I swore under my breath again, and Edward turned away, pushing his fingers through his hair..._

I watched Jacob as he executed a fast set of leaps in a wide circle around the studio, his eyes bright and focussed, his flying body strong and flexible.

Neither of us had been strong. We certainly hadn't been happy or carefree. _At least, _I thought, _he wasn't carefree after I came. _All the issues I had made for him; Angela's fall, the USB audition, making Tanya leave, his father on the phone every morning – they had all cost him so much. No wonder he got frustrated with me. No wonder I had tired him.

I had seen Edward dance without the burden of me only once, and that memory of his beautiful dance in the moonlight was marred by a hundred others all showing him tired or stressed or lugging me across a stage when my ankle was sprained.

"Hey, _Force!" _Leah's face was suddenly in front of mine. "You're on my bag."

Blinking, I stepped away, finding that class had finished and everyone was leaving.

\*\*/*/

Pointe was just as much of an endurance test as it had been last week, although the other girls were chatting about Jacob's return nonstop. It seemed that their group was now complete, the King of the Royals returned.

Mark greeted him like an old friend when everyone arrived for contemporary. "How was BC?" he asked.

Jake laughed, "Creative. I'm pretty sure my spine is now made of rubber."

I assumed they were talking about Ballet BC in Vancouver. It was a contemporary company renowned for their self-choreography and modern works. _He's already working in a professional company, _I thought. Edward could have been, too, if I hadn't screwed up his audition.

Contemporary had become my favourite class since arriving at Aro's. Not because of the dancing – God knew I was even worse modern than I was at classical – but because Mark was the only teacher who helped me. Vicky just snapped, my pointe teacher acted like I wasn't there, Mister York just had me spotting the others in case they fell, which they never did – that was reserved for me only – and my rep teacher, Mrs Tai, watched me but didn't exactly do anything about my mistakes. Mark helped me as much as he could without affecting the others – he actually gave me corrections in as much detail as possible.

Not that it could make that much difference – it just made me feel better.

Lunch went by slowly. Little Jenna was back with another one of her brown-leotarded girlfriends but nothing much had changed – same old problems. I wondered how long this would go on for; was every meal for the rest of the year going to be a soap opera episode for tweens? It wasn't really that bad – at least it was a distraction.

Except for today. My eyes kept slipping away from my plate to the Royals' table by the windows. They were all, of course, in high spirits. And it looked like Jacob had cracked another joke. _He has a nice smile, _I thought absently. Well, it was kind of a smirk, but it lit up his eyes.

I didn't know why I was thinking about him so much. Perhaps because he was the one thing I had been expecting and I had known about before coming here. Or perhaps because he was Edward's arch enemy and anything to do with Edward immediately had my full attention.

I put a hand to my cheek, leaning heavily on the table. _That's true. _Edward never left my head. Every thought I had was in relation to him. I doubted he'd be having the same problem with me, though. I glanced at the clock on the wall; quarter to one. He'd be in conditioning, probably joking around with Emmett and Jasper. Part of me hoped he was happy – that he was laughing with his friends like Jacob was now and his mind was free of me. The other part of me wished that _I _was happy.

And for me to be happy I felt like I had to be with Edward. And I knew how stupid that was – I knew I was no better than the brown leotards. But it was true – all that part of me wanted was to get in a car, drive overnight through the country side and arrive at those black, ornate gates at five in the morning and run up the dark, cobblestoned driveway and through the big double doors with the pointe shoe knocker and up the great staircase and down the corridor to room number forty-eight and bang on the door.

And he would open it, sleepy eyed and rumpled, those bronze locks somehow mussed into perfection. And he would blink those deep emerald eyes and see me standing there.

"_Bella," _he would whisper. And then he would pull me to him, crushing me against his chest, burying his hand in my hair, pressing his cheek against the top of my head. And I would press my face against his neck, letting the hot tears flow, as I inhaled his scent, felt that strong, familiar body surrounding me and knew that I was _home._

\*\*/*/

I was once again being spotter in partnering. Seth had danced in every class we'd been in together today but when Mister York asked him if he was recovered, Seth magically redeveloped his limp and went to sit at the front of the class again.

"Finally," Mister York said when he saw Jacob stretching with Damien and Adela. "Our missing cavalier has returned. We _almost _have the correct ratio of able dancers."

"Should've just partnered the girls together," Jacob said easily, even though he was holding his calf almost behind his head.

"He said _able, _Jacob," Leah said, prodding his taut thigh muscle.

Jacob raised an eyebrow and dropped his leg back down. "_'Able'_, huh?"

"Uhuh," she said, going up onto her pointes so that they were almost the same height. "Just as able as you, sweetheart."

"Alright," Jacob said, resting his hands on her waist and stepping close. "Lift me."

The others cracked up. "Go Leah!" Danny exclaimed.

"Oh yes," Mister York said in an amusingly blunt tone. "If you want to strain your back."

Jacob gave her a smirk, his brown eyes glinting.

Leah considered for a moment, "Fine."

He stepped back, raising his hands in surrender. "I am your danseuse, then."

Gerry snorted, "This is gonna be amusing."

They went to the centre of the floor and faced each other, a few metres apart.. Mister York just sat back against the barre, shaking his head.

"Better keep your legs straight," Leah warned.

"Ooo," Jacob cooed. "What are you going to do to me?"

They were kindred spirits – Leah's smirk almost equalled Jacob's. "Arabesque lift sound 'able' enough?"

He shrugged, "If you can."

She flicked her fringe out of her eyes, and gestured to him with one finger.

"Don't kill me," Jacob said as he set off. It only took him three long strides. Leah blinked, maybe realizing just how much weight was coming toward her, but then she bent her knees, Jacob hit his arabesque, one muscled leg lifting up behind him. Putting one hand on his thigh and the other on his rib cage, with a grunt, she lifted him.

"Holy shit!" she cursed through gritted teeth. He was a whole metre off the ground.

"Time to put me down?" Jacob asked laughingly, his body still perfectly rigid.

"Oh no," she said, and pushed him even higher.

I could see from where I sat that her back was arching dangerously.

His butt was just above her head when she suddenly let go, stumbling back.

My breath caught, but Jacob landed in a neat plié. There was a round of applause and laughter as Jacob picked up Leah's wrist like they were in a boxing ring.

"Hell yeah!" she shouted breathlessly. "So able!"

Jacob laughed, "Yeah, if you do that for the rest of the class."

She rolled her eyes and swatted him on the shoulder.

"Alright, alright," Mister York said, clapping his hands. "Let's get to work."

As they went to line up, I noticed Leah's hand against her back. _Not good, _I thought.

Still, for the whole class she danced mostly fine, particularly with Jacob as her partner. He didn't have the same focus for partnering as he did for solo work. In fact, they spent most of their time joking around. But the corrections Mister York gave the rest of the guys never applied to Jacob. He was consistent and strong. Every step, his hands were there, his body was in the right place. And, of course, he lifted without any hesitation, usually with some comment about how Leah was higher than he'd been.

When Mister York clapped his hands and told everyone to cool down and pack up, there were still fifteen minutes to go.

But as everyone took off their shoes and pulled on their sweaters, three people entered the room. The first was Vicky, still with this morning's irritated expression on her face. Then came Mrs Tai and a middle-aged man. He was kind of handsome in a Pierce Brosnan sort of way. His hair was dark brown, his features chiselled. And he walked with the upright posture of a classically trained dancer, complete with an upmarket black suit and shirt. I recognized him from the syllabus – Caius Volturi; the headmaster of Aro's.

"Good afternoon, everyone," he said in a clear voice. "I just have a quick announcement to make. Please, sit."

The Royals had all stopped what they were doing and now every sat down, exchanging curious glances.

"As you all know, Aro's is hosting the NFSI this year," There was a definite straightening of backs as everyone heard the subject. _NFSI? _I thought. _The summer intensive? The one that Alice was telling me about! _"I have three pieces of very important information. Firstly, due to the Pris de Lausane in July, all the theatres have been taken. Henceforth, the NFSI will be held in March, eight weeks from now, with the final rehearsal week over spring break and the tour for two weeks afterwards."

"Sweet!" Gerry muttered to Robbie. "Summer holiday for once!"

Caius Volturi gave him a pointed look, "Do you want to know what the production is or not, Gerald Briggs?"

"Sorry," he muttered. It was probably the sincerest thing I'd ever heard him say. Everyone gave him an irritated look.

"This year's National Federation of Ballet is _Romeo and Juliet."_

"Oh my God!" Danny squeaked. There was a wave of excited chatter. I sat frozen.

Amanda put her hand up, "Which version?"

But I already knew. _Sir Kenneth Macmillan, _I thought. "The Macmillan," Mister Volturi said pleasantly, obviously pleased with their reaction.

Sir Kenneth Macmillan's _Romeo and Juliet_ – the version Carlisle had been teaching Edward and I. _He was preparing us for this, _I realized. _He wanted us to play Romeo and Juliet...that was his expectation. This was meant for us..._

I put a hand to my lips, stopping the emotion from brimming too high. It wouldn't be good to lose it in front of my new headmaster.

"Now, this is very important, so listen. The third piece of information is that due to the limit of time we now have once all participants are assembled, preliminary auditions for the lead and soloist roles will be decided on by your teachers at the end of these eight weeks," he gestured to the three of them. "This means that you will be watched over the next two months and at the end of it only one of you will be chosen to audition for Romeo, only one for Juliet and so on." He took a breath, "This isn't a problem for the gentlemen as there are more male soloist roles than there are of you, so you are all guaranteed an audition.

"However, for the ladies," he looked at each of us, his eyes lingering on me momentarily. "There are only three roles available; Juliet, Lady Capulet and the nurse."

Leah made a face at the last role. Somehow I doubted the nurse did a lot of dancing.

"So only three of you will be auditioning against the other schools in March. The rest of you, of course, will be in the corps de ballet."

_That's me, _I thought. _Joy._

"From now on," he continued. "You must think of every class as an audition; put your best foot forward every time. You will be learning the variations and corps parts in Repertoire class with me or Mrs Tia. Mister York will be teaching you the balcony scene pas de deux in case you happen to be chosen to audition for Romeo or Juliet at the end of all this. In the auditions against the US Ballet and _Force de la Beauté _you will be asked to perform a pas de deux as well as the character's solo. Does everyone understand?"

I nodded along with the others. _Auditions against _Force?

In two months, I would see Alice again. And Jasper and Emmett and Rosalie _and Edward. _

But this time it wouldn't be as friends; I was on the other side now.

"Alright, you're all dismissed – have a good evening," Caius left and everyone burst into conversation.

Amongst it all, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I looked up to see Vicky, "Come outside, I need to talk to you."

Nervously, I got up and followed her out into the cool corridor. She waited until the Royals had all walked out, then she folded her arms and leaned against the wall, looking at me blankly, "You're not keeping up in class."

"I know," I said.

She gave me a pressed smile, telling me she didn't want to be interrupted, "I've given you a week to prove that you deserve to be in my class but from what I can see," she gestured to me. "You're not going to make a miraculous change. Today was further proof of that. You're not ready for this class and keeping you in it – don't cry, Bella."

I bit my cheek hard as a tear slipped out. _No, don't you dare cry! You're Bella Swan! You don't cry, not in front of people, not now! No! _But another followed. I dashed them both away, "Sorry," I muttered.

Vicky sighed, "Keeping you in my class is not good for you and it's even worse for them. So I've talked to Caius and we'll hopefully have you in a class more suited to you before tomorrow. Just come to technique as usual and I'll tell you where to go from there. Got it?"

I nodded mutely.

She nodded back awkwardly and left, her heels thudding as she walked away. No hug like I'd have had from Madame Cox. No warming, incomprehensible French like I'd have had from Esme.

No Carlisle to tell me to have faith in myself.

I took a deep breath and went back into the studio to get my bag.

But it wasn't empty.

Jacob stood at the barre performing a complex set of frappes. All was silent except the sweeping of fabric.

I sniffed and moved to get my bag, praying my tears weren't so obvious.

"Rough day?" he asked, still working.

"Yes," I said, trying to unknot my pointe shoes at a rate at which it was going to be impossible. _Calm down, Bella..._

Jacob stopped abruptly and instead leant against the barre, arms folded again, watching me. "They're dropping you, aren't they?"

I looked up, "How do you know?"

He gave me his smirk, "Because you stick out like something terrible in this class. They'd never let you stay."

"Smooth talker, aren't you?" I muttered, yanking off one shoe. _No wonder Edward doesn't like him._

He chuckled, "At least I talk."

I began picking at the other knot, "As far as I can tell, there's no one to talk _to _here."

He gave a sigh and began a tendu series, "My friends are ballet dancers. That is at the forefront of their minds all the time. We're close and we respect each other based on our dancing merits alone. And they're proud to be in this class – this is meant to be the class of superiority and all that; elite."

He switched to piques. "Regardless of how sweet and cutesy you are, they won't like you so long as you're tarnishing the class' reputation and dancing like crap."

I finished with my shoes and chucked them in my bag. I stood up and glared at him, "I am not sweet or cutesy and quite frankly this is not what I need right now just after I've been told that I'm getting dropped after one week of class. So bye."

It was one of the longest sentences I'd said since coming here. I made for the door. Just as I reached for the handle he said, "And what if I taught you how not to be crap?"

I spun around, giving a startled, disbelieving laugh, "You seriously think that you can teach me what Barbara Cox, Vicky and _Carlisle Cullen_ failed to teach me?"

Jacob chuckled again. _His freaking chuckling! _

He left the barre and strode a few steps forward, "I'm sure I can. I can guarantee that before these eight weeks are up, you _will _have that Juliet role as your own, and all the love of my Royals to go with it."

"Juliet?" I repeated, mirroring his folded arms with my own. "I'm not even going to be in the corps at this rate – I not going to be there! I'll be relearning pliés and pirouettes."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you were at _Force," _he said, as if he'd been with me every second of my life.

"Jesus!" I exclaimed. Obviously he didn't know who I was. "I was in _First Year _at _Force! _Okay? I'm dancing at a level two years beneath my age! I wouldn't be going anyway! Go tell all your friends that and leave me alone." It felt good to shout. Really good.

"Good; not so cutesy," he said happily. He swung his bag over his shoulder and sauntered toward the door. I stepped away as he opened it and turned back to me. "Tell me your decision before tomorrow, got it?"

"No," I said. "I'm telling you now; no."

He just smirked and let the door shut behind him.

* * *

><p>Hmmm...:D<p>

**Next chapter is almost finished! Will be up very soon!**

**Please review and tell me what you think of the latest goings on for our dear danseuse!**

****Thanks so much for reading!****


	12. Chapter 12

__Well hello there!

I am on a roll! Somehow I have managed to fit Vivaldi, postmodernism and Pas de Trois all into one day!

Life is surprisingly good!

**Thanks so much for your reviews!**

**I know there are a looooot of questions, so the answer to, well, one of them is at the bottom!**

**I'm so incredibly thankful to every single reviewer! You're awesome, please know it!**

****This is a really short chapter but down worry because chapter 13 is on the way!

**Please review!**

**And enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Shakespeare was giving pro-feminist messages because of his portrayal Katherina in<em>

I stared at the empty line. My brain couldn't finish the sentence. I was a scholarship student and I was being _dropped._

And Carlisle had tried to teach Edward and I the balcony pas de deux for this NFSI thing and I'd failed, despite his belief that somehow I could be Juliet._ No wonder we started so early._

I heard the front door opening downstairs and voices in the hallway. "Bella!" came Leah's distinctive shout which would probably be heard down in the little light blue kids' house.

I felt like a servant, putting my pen down and going to her call immediately. Admittedly, I would probably have used any excuse to stop trying to write about pro-feminist Shakespeare.

"What?" I said from the top of the stairs.

"Someone here to see you but we don't recognize her and the door is closing in five, four, three..."

I hurried down the stairs.

"Angela?" I exclaimed. She was standing there on the doorstep, grinning despite Leah. Ignoring her completely, I ran a flung my arms around my friend. "What the heck are you doing here?"

"'bout to ask you the same thing, Swan!"

I laughed, a smile on face that I hadn't felt since before my last day of _Force. _"Come in, we have so much to catch up on!"

"Oh no no no," Leah said, stepping in front of us. She gave me that smile which said she was about to do something infuriating. "No strangers in the bedrooms, _Force_."

I rolled my eyes, "Go fetch the matron or something, then. Or would you prefer it if we spread our _Force _germs around the living room?"

"Wow!" I heard Gerry shout through the door. "She speaks!"

"She speaks _back!" _ Robbie added.

I rolled my eyes and pushed past Leah.

"It's like Lauren with bangs," Angela said as we walked up the stairs.

"I know," I said. "But twice as bad."

She looked around my room as we sat, "Not exactly the dorm, is it?"

"Not exactly," I said, sitting cross legged on my bed. "So what _are _you doing here?"

"Well I had to go all the way to _Force, _first," she said, giving me a chastising look.

I looked down guiltily, "It was kind of a crazy departure. Sorry for not telling you."

"Don't worry, I heard," she said. "Besides, I was going to see a certain gentleman, as well..."

"Ben?" I asked, grinning. "Details!"

She sighed happily, leaning back against the wall, "He's perfect. And amazing. And so, so cute when he's shy."

I laughed, "Lovestruck are we, Ange?"

She blushed, "Completely." She collected herself, "But I guess you probably don't want to hear about romance and stuff right now."

"No, no," I said quickly. "It's okay."

Angela looked at me sympathetically, "How are you doing? I heard how it happened was awful?"

"Yeah," I picked up a pencil from my desk and started fiddling with it. "Wasn't exactly ideal. I just didn't want to tell anyone when things were going so well; I just wanted to enjoy my last few weeks."

Angela nodded, "Fair enough. Still, _Anthony Masen," _she grinned. "You're obviously pretty important."

"Pretty important to get rid of," I muttered.

"Bella," Angela said. "He saw you dance _once. _Remember the first time we saw you dance your solo? And everyone was complaining and then you went and owned it on stage."

"But this was a proper variation," I said. "And now I kind of understand his reaction – I mean if the Third Years are anything like these guys here then I have no business dancing with Edward."

"You danced perfectly with Edward," she said. "Totally equal with him. Matched."

"He's a good partner," I said, not wanting to say anymore. I shook my head. "I'm not on their level, Ange. Seriously, I got told today that I was getting dropped to a lower class. My dancing has nothing on theirs. Nothing at all. I just spend my time falling over and making a fool of myself."

She frowned, "You never used to fall over."

I shrugged, "Harder moves. I'm just not cut out for this calibre of dance." I bit my lip, "And I miss _Force. _I would take First Year over Class A any day just to be with everyone."

"But you can't," Angela said. "And no one else in our class could have been offered this scholarship. They wouldn't have given it to you if they didn't think you were capable. You just need to show them what you showed everyone at the Review."

Regardless of what she said, she couldn't convince me that I was meant to be here; she hadn't seen how badly I'd been dancing.

"What about you?" I asked eventually. "How's your shoulder? Why are you in Seattle?"

"My uncle lives here," she said. "My parents sent me here for a while." She patted her collarbone, "It's official; I can't dance anymore."

"What?" I exclaimed, giving her a hug. "That's awful, Ange! I'm so sorry!"

She nodded, "I found out a while ago, though. But my uncle is kind of an entrepreneur – he's pretty rich. And..." her eyes were bright with excitement. "He's given me a premises and a no-interest loan to start my own ballet studio here."

"No way!" I squealed. "That is so exciting! A business owner and a ballet teacher and everything!"

"I know!" she squeaked. "Honestly, I thought that I was going to just have to go back to school and try and get an ordinary job somewhere, but I took a teaching course over the Christmas break and now I'm just getting set up. This is awesome!"

"You have to tell me what I can do to help," I said, grabbing her hand. "I can come and paint or something!"

She laughed, "Okay, handyman Bella it is. I'm glad you've said so, though – that's part of the reason I'm here; to ask if you might be able to relieve for me once or twice if I have a hospital appointment during a class? Only on the weekends, of course."

"Sure," I said. "I would love to, though I don't know anything about teaching."

She shrugged, "It's just little kids. Tell them to jump, spin, plié. That's pretty much it."

"I'm so happy for you, Ange," I said. "After your fall and everything."

She nodded, "It was a rough patch. I'm just glad I had you and Ben and everyone..." she glanced at her watch. "Anyways, I better get going; promised my uncle I'd be home in time for that Donald Trump show."

"Right," I said.

"How is everyone else?" I asked as we walked down the corridor.

"They're good," she said. "Exam results were good and everything. And guess what? Violet is going out with Ryan!"

"She has a boyfriend? _Wow, _that is a weird thought."

"I know," Angela said. "Our little crazy one is growing up!"

"Awww! It's so cute!"

We both looked toward the sitting room door where everyone was, as usual, lounging around. It was Gerry who had decided to join our conversation. He was lying upside down, half off the couch.

Angela looked at me as we walked to the door, "Is he drunk?"

"Permanently," I muttered.

I opened the front door, but hesitated, "Ange...did you see Edward when you visited?"

It was the one topic I had avoided, but now she was leaving and I just had to know how he was.

"Only briefly," she said tentatively. "He was polite – asked me how my shoulder was and everything."

"But?" I could hear it in her voice.

She sighed, "He just looked tired, Bella. Honestly, I don't know anything more. He was like a blank book. His usual teaching face and all – just tired."

I nodded, "And Tanya?"

Angela shrugged, "Violet told me she's back and partnering Edward again."

I just nodded again.

She frowned and pulled me into a hug, "Don't worry, Bells; Edward's not the only partner or boyfriend out there. There'll be someone else for you."

I just hugged her tighter and then let go, "Thanks for visiting."

She smiled, "I'll call you soon, 'kay?"

"Yep," I said.

As soon the door had clicked shut behind her, I heard a scuffle and turned to see Leah leaning on the living room doorframe and everyone else standing behind her.

"Edward Masen?" she said, arms folded.

_Oh God, _"Haven't you heard of a private conversation?"

None of them moved. "All we heard was Edward Masen and 'partner'."

"And 'boyfriend'," Adela added, her skinny arms folded like Leah's.

"You're that First Year, aren't you?" Leah took a step forward. "The one who danced at that Review thing last year? When Edward Masen appeared out of nowhere and started dancing with you?"

I took a deep breath, "Yes," I said.

"The one who got Tanya Denali thrown out of _Force?" _said Robbie.

"Yes."

The Royals stared at me.

Leah took another step toward me, "So you're Edward Masen's partner and girlfriend?"

"I – " I began.

"Jacob!" Leah exclaimed as he appeared out of the kitchen in a white wifebeater, holding a bottle of water. "Are you hearing this?"

"Yes," he said disinterestedly.

Leah scoffed incredulously and pointed a manicured nail at me, "She's _Edward's _partner! Edward _Masen's _partner! And girlfriend!"

"I know," he said simply, leaning against the stair banister.

"You _knew?" _Leah's voice had risen up a few tones in pitch. It would have been funny, had I not been in a hallway full of _Force-_hating Colaiannis. "Why didn't you tell us? I texted you about her, like, ten thousand times last week!"

He shrugged, taking a swig of water, "It doesn't matter."

"How can it not matter?" Leah exclaimed. "She's Edward's partner."

"I _was _his partner," I finally got out. "Not anymore."

She turned to glare at me, "Yeah, well from what I've seen, once you're Masen's partner it sticks for life."

"What?" I said, "So you think I'm emailing him the quality of your arabesques and pointe shoe sizes?"

Jacob sniggered, taking another sip. It was strange that _he, _of all of them, was the one kind of on my side.

Leah spun around to him, even angrier now, "You can't just keep things like this from me, Jacob."

"Leah," he said, abruptly turning serious. He stood up. "_Don't_ get all girlfriend on me."

She recoiled, taking step away from him. It was the most vulnerable I'd ever seen her.

Jacob ignored her and spoke to all the Royals, "Unless Edward is here, waltzing around the studios, I couldn't care less about him or his love life."

\*\*/*/

I was back in my room, alone, searching up the website Angela had given me for her new studio when there was a knock on the door.

"Leah and Bridget aren't here," I called, smiling at a photo of her back at _Force _which she'd used on her bio page.

"Good," the door opened to reveal Jacob. He had his old smirk back, "I came to get your decision."

"I already told you," I said.

He cocked his head to the side, "You sure?"

I hesitated and shut the lid of my laptop, "Why are you offering me lessons? When you _know _I'm Edward's par – ex partner."

He frowned, "Did you hear nothing of what I said downstairs?"

"Of course, but that doesn't mean I have to believe it."

He chuckled and walked in, shutting the door behind him. He walked over to Leah's bed, studying the photos on her wall. "I meant what I said. You're not Edward. You don't dance like him, talk like him and, forgive me for assuming, but I think you're a girl." He looked at me pointedly.

I conceded a little laugh. "You don't like Edward, though, right?"

He shook his head, "Closer to hating his guts, sweetheart. I won't deny it. _But," _he left Leah's photos and came to stand in front of me. "That judgement on him doesn't need to affect you."

"Okay," I said carefully. "But even without me being Edward's ex" – God, that prefix hurt – "why do you want to waste your time giving lessons to me? You saw me today – I'm crap."

"Yeah, you are," he said, picking up my assignment on Shakespeare. "But you _were _good, last year. I heard the audience, Bella; that applause doesn't come for just any soloist."

"It was for Edward and me together."

Jacob scoffed, flicking over a few pages without reading them, "You were the one who was out there the whole time. You were the one who snapped her ankle half way through and kept dancing. You were the one who danced that dance with the skill it needed. They were showing their appreciation for _you. _Everyone was – even those lunatics downstairs."

Somehow I doubted Leah had been clapping and shouting for me.

"Anyway," he said. "You showed that you were capable of dancing incredibly well."

"Still nothing like you Royals, though."

"No," he conceded. "But I can make that happen, if you let me give you lessons. All the skills are there, you just need to bring them out."

I sighed, tracing the emblem on my laptop, "Okay, so I have some miraculous talent which has magically disappeared. But that still doesn't explain why you want to teach me to be better."

He dropped my Shakespeare assignment back on my desk, "Leah's not going to get Juliet. She hasn't got a chance."

I frowned, "Why not? She's good. It's either her or Adela."

Jacob shook his head, "Leah's never had a lead role in her life, and she never will. She's too reckless; not soft enough for any principal roles. And she's a liability – you saw her in partnering today with her back. She does stuff like that all the time."

"You should have stopped her, then," I said. He may have been funny, but he was still kind of arrogant...

"Babysitting is not my job," he said dismissively. Now he'd picked up the pencil I'd been fiddling with earlier. "Besides, if you tell Leah to do something she'll inevitably do the opposite. Either way, Bella, Leah won't get the Juliet audition."

"Then Adela will."

He tapped the pencil against his palm, "Correct."

I pushed a hand through my hair. I was getting tired, "What does Juliet even have to do with you?"

"I want Romeo," he said. "And the final audition involves a pas de deux. If I'm going up against your boy and Tanya Denali, I need a decent partner."

"So dance with Adela," I said, trying my best to ignore Edward being 'my boy'.

He shook his head, "No. She's a good soloist but she's too tall for me to partner well."

"Then train one of the other girls – Amanda?"

He sighed and leaned back against the wall, "Too boring."

He had a point. "Bridget?"

"Too stiff."

"Danny?"

He huffed and kneeled down to my height, resting his arm on my desk, "Why are you being so difficult about this? Don't you want to succeed in ballet? Succeed here? Because I can tell you now that the best teachers in the school are in our year and the ones below will ignore you just as much as these ones do. You're new, you're too old and you're from _Force." _He gave me a 'just-saying-like-it-is' smile, "You haven't got a hope in Hell."

"God!" I groaned. "You are unbelievable!"

He smirked, "So it's been said. But I'm your one chance at not failing."

_He's right, _I thought dully. _I have no hope at all at the moment of achieving anything here. At least he's something – even if he's a rude, arrogant prat._

I looked at him closely. Those dark brown eyes looked back, unfazed. He already knew what my answer had to be.

"But even if you can manage to get me above Leah and Adela and everyone else, you heard what happened in partnering with Seth – I can't partner."

He looked at me pointedly, "You did it with Masen; you can do it with me. Partnering is not as monumental as you think. It's just dancing with another person."

"Right," I said sceptically.

Jacob chuckled, "Don't worry, you'll be fine."

I looked at the chipped wood of my desk. I was between a rock and a hard place. I was failing here and I had to get help from somewhere, but how could I take lessons from someone the same age as me? Someone whom Alice had told me was a liar and a cheat and whom Edward had refused to talk about?

But maybe that was what made my decision; somewhere inside of me there was an anger at Edward that I couldn't embrace yet. But still it whispered that I should take up Jacob's offer.

Because Edward wouldn't like it.

I didn't let the reason even be thought of, but it was there.

"Okay, then," I said, looking up into Jacob Black's dark brown eyes, a direct contrast to the emeralds I missed so much. "Teach me."

* * *

><p>Okay, so I promised I would answer the question that even I am asking myself.<p>

But I'm answering it vaguely by saying: Read the synopsis...:) I haven't changed plans; I am just being evil because I love you all so much!

So, look at the characters, the synopsis and the author (I didn't write New Moon!) and hopefully I'll have answered the question :D

**I know it was a short chapter, but don't worry - Chapter 13 is halfway through!**

**Thanks so much for reading! Please flick me a review and let me know your thoughts!**


	13. Chapter 13

Hello!

Here I am yet again!

And with no less than two chapters to give to you!

Once again I have managed to write a chapter which was kinda too long, so I've split it up so you don't have to wait as long for it to be finished!

**Thank you so, SO much if you reviewed!**

**I was writing notes, laughing, nodding, brainstorming and grinning along to all your helpful, inspiring words!**

**You guys are awesome!**

I must get back to writing so I shall hurry up:

**Please review!**

**And enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>The Sky and the Dawn and the Sun - Celtic Woman (I don't <em>really_ like their voices...too thin...but it's still good stuff...)_**  
><strong>

* * *

><p>My mornings weren't started with golden light beaming through the windows or rain pattering on the glass like they had been at <em>Force. <em>In the townhouse it was the screeching of Leah's Nightwish alarm and the drone of the morning traffic on the streets.

But when I woke up the morning after Jacob's arrival, I wasn't as unhappy with my surroundings as I usually was. Jacob had been right; I was failing and I hadn't had any idea how to fix it. I rolled over in bed, stretching out my sore muscles. Now I didn't feel so helpless. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that I would be okay. And it all depended on Edward's arch enemy's ability to drag me up to a seriously advanced level in under eight weeks.

It sounded improbable, and yet Jacob had been so confident that I could almost believe him...

"_God," _Leah moaned, punching her pillow. "When is the freaking weekend?"

"Four more days," Bridget muttered, her red hair clashing violently with her pink satin pillow.

Realizing that for once I had a head start, I pushed off my covers, snatched up my towel and headed for the showers. I was up before everyone else – this morning was _seriously_ different.

My table was empty when I arrived in the cafeteria. It felt weird, sitting there without the brown leotards talking away with all the sympathy and whispers. Maybe they'd made up and she was sitting back with her friends?

My good mood dropped significantly when the bell rang, though. This was when Vicky was going to tell me which class they'd put me in. I tried to breathe properly as I crossed the busy courtyard, but my hand was tight around my bag strap and I was feeling a little queasy. I wondered whether she'd even bother to take me outside or if she'd just tell me in front of the whole class.

A hand suddenly grabbed my elbow, "Morning."

Jacob didn't look at me as he steered me in a different direction. I shook his hand off, "What are you doing?"

"_We _are bunking," he said.

"What?" I exclaimed. "I can't – Vicky's giving me my new class."

"Exactly," he said. I realized we were heading toward the reception. "She can't drop you if you're not there."

"That is warped logic," I said as he held the door open for me. He strode through like it didn't matter.

"Jacob!" the receptionist called. She was the girl who'd shown me to class on the first day. "Where are you going?"

"Showing Bella to the physio!" he called back, not bothering to turn around.

She just shook her head and went back to typing.

We went through the automatic doors and back out into the cold winter air.

"What are you planning on doing?" I asked, having to push my pace to keep up with him.

"I need coffee," he said. "And then we'll go find an empty studio."

"Coffee?" I repeated. I realized he was dressed in casual clothes again – Jeans, another dark red t-shirt and a black leather jacket. "Don't _you _need to be in class?"

"Nope," he said with a smile. "I just need coffee. Want one? Or are you one of those skinny ballerinas who refuses to drink anything but grapefruit juice?"

"Sure, whatever," I said. We crossed the road the boarding houses were down. "So you don't need to attend class to be a good dancer, you just need coffee?"

He grinned, "Water of the Gods. That and Russian vodka."

"I'm sure that'll help my pirouettes," I said dryly, pushing my hands into my cardigan pockets – I hadn't been planning on a walk.

Jacob chuckled, "I've tried. In a performance of Giselle, actually."

"A real performance?" I asked.

He nodded, "When the Wilis started dancing me to death it felt _very _authentic."

We emerged onto Broad Street, where traffic was pretty clogged. A monorail groaned overhead. The space needle loomed up above us. We crossed the street to the park. The snow had stopped this past week, and now the grass was wet and green, glinting in the sunlight.

"God, it's so good to get out of there," Jacob muttered as we walked along a path. There was a fairground on the other side of the park – it looked pretty closed up, but there was a caravan selling coffee by the ticket office for the Needle.

"You were there for less than twenty-four hours," I said as he got out his credit card.

He shrugged, "It's still stifling. What do you want?"

"I'll pay myself," I said quickly, delving into my sports bag.

"No you won't," he said, then grinned. "You can pay tomorrow."

"We're doing this again?"

"Yep," he said happily, "Somehow I can imagine that teaching you is going to require extra caffeine."

I raised my eyebrow, "I thought you said you could do it?"

He raised his eyebrow, mirroring my expression, "That's not in question, but neither is the fact that you're gonna be a handful. Now, what do you want?"

"Trim latte," I gave in.

We headed back cradling the takeaway cups to warm our hands. "So why am I a 'handful'?" I asked.

"Stubborn," he said simply. "Not that I'd have gathered that from your behaviour here at Aro's. I talked to Jeffrey Evans after the Review, though; he was only too eager to tell me what an awful, unprofessional person you were."

I gulped down a mouthful of hot coffee too fast, "What? He's a jerk." Jeffrey Evans – director of the US Ballet Academy and a nasty piece of work.

Jacob nodded, "But he wasn't lying when he said that you weren't even meant to be on the stage that night, was he?"

"_No," _I conceded. "But still..."

"Oh don't worry," Jacob said, smirking. "Your stubbornness or willpower, whatever, is the only thing that's going to get you through these eight weeks. I just need to work out how to switch it back on again."

"I'm not a computer," I said. "I don't have a switch."

We'd reached the trimmed lawn of the school again. Instead of going through the reception, Jacob led me around to another door which he swiftly unlocked with an official-looking key. I didn't ask where he'd got it from.

"Okay," he said once we'd climbed up to the second floor and found an empty studio. "This is the part where you give me your coffee and I finish it whilst you get all sweaty and gross."

I laughed, sitting down to change my shoes, "Charming. You know you're gonna get a caffeine overload, right?"

"This is ballet, not science," Jacob said. "We have just over an hour, chop chop!"

I felt suddenly self conscious. It was weird, having a guy the same age as me giving me a one-on-one lesson. I mean, I didn't even know him. _Edward taught me, _I reminded myself. But that was in a full class with my friends. Still, this could never be more awkward than Edward storming out after our first dance.

Jacob sat down with the two coffees in a half split at the front of the studio, his toes automatically pointing. "Start with pliés."

"No music?" I asked, going to the barre.

"Too distracting," he said. "You need to learn to focus on yourself and nothing else. All positions – two demis, grande, forward port de bras, back arch."

"Got it," I said.

It felt weird without music. I set myself up in first position, heels together, my feet almost in straight line, and did half pliés, up down, up down. And then a grande plié, bending my knees deeply, sweeping my arm up and straightening. The only sound in the room was the stretch of my tights and my breathing. I swept my head down to my knees. _Is he going to say anything? _I thought. I brought my body up again and arched backward.

"Do you ever look in a mirror?" he asked abruptly. "Or just stare off into space?"

"Okay," I said, and looked at my reflection as I went through the combination again.

"What do you see?" he asked.

I raised my eyebrow and looked at him, "Is that meant to be philosophical?" I didn't know where this tardy mouth had come from; my nerves? _I am nervous, _I realized. Because he had described to me just how close I was to failing. These lessons were my last chance.

Jacob rolled his eyes, standing, and walked over to me. "Just do the grande pliés," he instructed, keeping eye contact with me in the mirror. "Now, start from the bottom up. Everything from your toes to the top of your head. What's wrong with each of them?"

"That's really pessimistic," I said, going all the way down again. _Jesus, if there's so much wrong with my pliés then I have no chance of Juliet..._

"Bella, just do it," he said. "Focus. Think of nothing but your body right this minute. What's wrong with your feet?"

_Try, _I told myself, _just try. _I looked at them, "They might need more arch, more rolling."

"Fix it," he said.

I tried rolling through my feet more, feeling the seam of my shoes pressing into me at every point in the move. "Is that better?"

"Is it?" he said in reply.

I looked – I wasn't wobbling so much. _I had been wobbling before?_

"I think so," I said.

"Okay, your ankles?"

"This is going to take ages," I said. "And I'm still in first position."

He shrugged, "I don't care – I have coffee. Now, ankles."

"They're a little bit out of line, I guess."

"Alright, fix it."

I did. It made my feet arch better as I came up once again.

"Now your legs."

"They hurt," I said, and it was true – doing grande pliés repeatedly without the rest of the combination was making my thighs and calves ache. "_But," _I said before he could say 'focus' again. "My knees aren't in line with my third toes." I remembered Mrs Harcourt telling me that rule in my first ever ballet class.

"So – "

"Fix it?" I guessed.

He gave me a look in the mirror, which I returned with a polite nod of my head and tried not to grin.

We continued up – pelvis, hips, butt, stomach, chest, shoulders, arms, wrists, fingers, neck, chin, crown. Every single part.

And then we went back to the bottom again, only to discover that my feet weren't fixed anymore. Up again and then down, and then up, then down...and then finally, finally Jacob told me to take one more sweep. Mercifully, every single body part seemed to be correct. And it had taken half an hour.

Half an hour on a grande plié? That must have been a record.

Then we moved on to relevés, simply going from first position to pointe. It was the same deal as before – Jacob asking me about every single part of my body and what it was doing wrong at every single section of the movement. Relevés took twelve minutes.

Tendues were taking much longer – the clock had ticked over thirty five minutes as I'd performed the painstakingly simple move.

"Now Bella," he said as I fixed the hold of my hand on the barre. He was sitting back down with his now empty coffee cups, watching me intently. "How are you feeling? And I don't mean do your calves hurt because if they don't then I am doing something seriously wrong."

"Uh," I thought for a second. My mind was oddly quiet. I just saw my feet, my legs, my torso, my arms, my head...but I saw nothing other than my own body. I hadn't looked at the studio around me in over an hour. I'd hardly looked at Jacob – I'd just heard his voice as I'd watched myself. "I don't know," I said, and I wasn't lying.

I saw him stroll over in the mirror, his hands in his pockets.

He leaned against the barre in front of me, grinning. I stopped, finally, and found myself needing the barre's support. How could that have been tiring? It was the first three exercises of barre!

"Weird, isn't it?" He said, "Being so incredibly bored that everything else fades away and you're focussed?"

"Focussed," I said, trying the word out. I nodded slowly, "I guess that was what it was."

"Exhausting, right?" Jacob said, a twinkle in his eye.

I nodded, putting a hand on my hip, "But how is this going to get me to Juliet in eight weeks? I mean, you didn't even correct anything yourself."

He laughed, "Are you saying you don't know what a plié is meant to look like?" He sighed at my blank expression. "Bella, you know all of this just as well as I do. This isn't uncharted territory for you – you've heard all those corrections at some point or other, it's just that you've never had the time or the idea to put them all together."

"I _don't _have the time," I said. "Even if I do this every day, I'm not make it through to the _floor_ exercises before the two months are up, let alone solos and pas de deuxs."

He raised an eyebrow, "Who said anything about every day?"

"What?" I said, astounded. "So not even that?"

He stepped closer to me, that smirk back on his face as he looked down at me, "Every waking hour, Swan, you had better be thinking and doing ballet."

He picked up his water bottle and took a sip, "Every morning at this time with me until you're good enough to get back to class, alone every lunchtime, minus the five minutes for eating, then after class every day until dinner and then rehearsal with me until eight. _Then," _he said, chucking the bottle back into his bag. "You go home, you stretch, you sleep, you get up the next day and do it all again until the day Victoria walks into that studio and tells you you're going to be Juliet."

I blew out a long breath. It was strange – what he'd just described seemed so incredibly difficult and yet something in me was oddly attracted to it. _I won't have to think about Edward, _I realized; if I had to be as focussed as I had been this lesson every second of the day then I wouldn't have to cringe and cry and hate myself over what had happened with Edward. I wouldn't have to remember those eyes, those hands, that voice...his dance. That mental strain was far more tiring than any physical exhaustion.

Jacob gazed at me, waiting.

"I'll do it," I said quietly, looking up at him. "Every waking hour."

I watched the smile spread across his face, "Good, then. Now show me your penche."

"My penche?" I said.

He nodded, "It was impressive at the Review. Most girls here couldn't do it."

"Could you?" I asked.

He smirked at me, stepped forward and lifted his leg until it was at one hundred and eighty with his other leg – a perfect line. His hand reached out gracefully in front of him. He held it just long enough to let me know I was thoroughly beaten and then stood back up, "But that's not en pointe."

"Though I'm sure you could do that, too," I muttered, folding my arms.

He shrugged, "Yeah, I probably could. Now show me."

I finally prised my fingers off the barre and went to the centre. Before I even stepped, I knew it was going to be bad. I went up onto pointe, lifting my back leg into arabesque. The tips of my toes pressed into the floor. Already I was wobbling. Reaching forward, I pushed my leg higher...higher..._higher – _

"Shit!" I cursed as my toes suddenly shifted and my leg down. I looked at Jacob, "How high?"

"Hardly over ninety," he said, pushing off the barre and walking over to the front to collect his bag. "It needs to be held for at least five seconds at one-eighty." He gave me his smirk, "By Friday night."

"What?" I exclaimed. "That's impossible."

"You said the same about me teaching you," he said, strolling toward me. "And yet somehow you're here."

"It's the first day," I pointed out, picking up my own bag.

"That makes no difference," he said. "Some part of you trusts that I can get you Juliet in two months. So trust that you're going to get that penche by Friday." Jacob gazed at me, that same gaze he'd had the first time he'd looked at me, "Just trust me, Swan."

_"You have no faith in us, do you?" _

I swallowed. How could I trust Jacob now but not the guy I loved when it had really mattered?

"Bella?" Jacob said, bringing me back.

"Just don't talk to me about trust," I muttered.

Jacob just looked at me for a moment, then opened the studio door for me. "We should get to class."

I nodded and walked out.

He didn't seem to feel the awkwardness and embarrassment I felt as we walked up the stairs to the second floor. Instead, he kept talking, "There's one more thing we need to do. Stopping Vicky from dropping you by not turning up was okay once, but we need a better way to give us time."

I shook my head, "I have no idea how to do any of this skulking around."

He chuckled, "I know. Don't worry, I have a plan. But it does involve a little bit of white lying."

I frowned, "I don't – "

"You were on crutches after the Review, right?" Jacob said, ignoring my protestation. "You were injured?"

I nodded hesitantly, "My ankle; I was off for a few weeks."

"Good," he said as we arrived on the second floor. "That's why you've been sucking so badly this past week; still suffering from your ankle but you were too nervous to say anything."

"But – "

Jacob stopped and turned to me, "Don't, Bella. Whatever your argument is, it's not good enough. Now," he started walking again. "If you can call _Force _and get your medical record off their physio then that'll be good enough evidence, even for Vicky." He smiled at me, "And then you're going to go to the physio each morning until he says your ankle's better, aren't you?"

I sighed, "Sure thing, Doctor Black."

He grinned, "Good." He fished an iPhone Four out of his bag, unlocked it and handed it to me. "Phone away."

I hesitated, staring at the phone in my hands.

"Oh don't worry," he joked. "Apple's not that bad."

I gulped and dialled the number I'd memorized over the weeks I'd been recovering.

"Hello, this is _Force de la Beauté: Academy of Ballet _reception, how may I help you."

It was the flustered voice of Mrs Cope.

My heart squeezed painfully. _Force...it's Force! _My_ school!_

"Hello?"

"Hi Mrs Cope," I said quickly, moving back over to the stairwell, feeling Jacob's eyes on me. My hand clutched the cold metal handrail. "It's Bella Swan, uh, I was a First Ye- "

"Miss Swan!" she exclaimed. "Yes, yes, I know you. What can I do for you?"

"Uh, I just need to get some medical files sent through to..." I swallowed, trying to breathe. "To my new school."

"Okay," she said. "I'll just put you through to Doctor Hill."

"Thanks," I said and sat down on the top step, not trusting myself to stand.

There was a pause, then a beep. Jacob tapped me on the shoulder, giving me a questioning look. I gave him a weak smile back.

"Doctor Hill speaking."

I recognized his serious, academic voice. "Hi, sir" – it felt so good to use the normal term again – "It's Bella Swan; I was just wondering if you could fax my medical files about my ankle over to Aro Colaianni's."

"You're still dancing, then, Miss Swan," he said discerningly – for some reason, he had a huge issue with people dancing ballet.

"Yes I – "

"Did you just say 'Miss Swan'?" A Russian accent demanded in the background.

There was the sound of movement and a bed creaking on the other end.

"Mister Hale!"

Some Russian curse was spat, and then the line became clear again, "Bella?"

"Jasper!?" I exclaimed with a laugh.

"Bella!" he said again excitedly with equal humour. "How are you? What are you doing? What's Aro's like?"

Jacob gave me a look, but I turned away. "I'm good...oh, it's just so good to talk to you! How are things at _Force? _How's Alice? And Emmett and Rose?"

"All good, all good, Bella, just missing you! The Dining Hall has just been far too quiet without you."

I laughed, "I'm sorry you've lost your entertainment."

"Mister Hale, you _will _be getting a detention for this."

"I know," he said dismissively. "So how is Colaianni? How's the city?"

"Loud," I said. This wasn't the time to get worked up..._it's not, it's not... _"But warmer."

"Yeah, Alice got another one of her silly outfits caught under her feet and slipped over on the ice."

"But you caught her?"

"Of course!" he exclaimed. "But I got a kink in my back doing it so now I am here."

"Mister Hale, right now," Doctor Hill warned at the same time as Jacob held out his hand.

"We need to get to class, Bella."

"Who's that?" Jasper asked curiously.

_Jacob Black, your best friend's arch enemy... _"A friend," I looked up at him – he raised his eyebrow expectantly. "Look, Jazz, I have to go..."

"Contact us! What's your – "

"Mister Hale!" Doctor Hill exclaimed, and the line went dead.

I stared down at the phone for a second before Jacob took it from my hands, "Come on, Swan."

He offered me a hand up, which I took, feeling a little shaky.

But then Jacob turned around and put his hands on my shoulder. It was the first time he'd touched me, and it felt weird; like he was my football coach or something. His eyes level with mine, and they looked at me seriously, "Now, this is very important, Bella; I need you to focus, okay?"

"Okay," I said, trying to get my head back in the game

"That penche being straight and perfect means that you're back up at the level you were at when you were at _Force. _Right?"

I nodded; that made sense. The penche had been the hardest move in my choreography – the last one to be perfected.

Jacob commanded my attention again, "Friday night, Bella. You need to be back at that level. I don't have time to wait for you to get to the level of a _Force _First Year. Do exactly what I taught you to do today, on every single movement you do, including that penche. Tonight I'll give you combinations, and the same thing applies to them – every single step, broken down, head to toe.

"This is something you need to do without my help – you _know _where you're making the mistakes and you know how to fix them. My work doesn't begin until I see that penche on Friday night." He saw my question coming, "And _don't _worry about the time it will take; you'll see."

* * *

><p><em><em>Chapter Fourteen will be up within twenty-four hours, so look out for it!

Regarding _Sugar Plum Fairy,_ as soon as I get the time I will certainly try to update!

**Please flick me a review and let me know your thoughts!**

**Silly Alice and her clothing...thanks for reading!**


	14. Chapter 14

Hey!

Okay, two in the morning...making this one quick!

**Thanks so much for your fantastic reviews!**

**So good to know your thoughts and predictions and advice and requests!**

**Cheers!**

**Okay, please review!**

**And Enjoy!**

* * *

><p>At the time, I thought that that week was one of the longest of my whole life. <em>Every waking hour<em>...

...and every hour as I lay in bed trying to sleep...and every hour of my dreams; every hour of every day and night, my mind was seeing dance. I only needed to shut my eyes to see unturned out legs or sickled feet or stiff fingers.

And when I opened my eyes – well, then I'd see them in front of me instead, because I would almost inevitably be in a studio.

My classes, once dreaded beyond anything else, seemed to blur into the endless times alone or with Jacob in the studio. Since I was skipping technique, Pointe was my first class of the day. I would walk in already exhausted to the snide comments from the five other girls, led by Leah. They didn't like the fact that for some reason I was still in their class.

I still wasn't good enough. I still couldn't keep up. The combinations we were given were so complex in comparison to the ones Jacob had been giving me, which were at the level Madame Cox had been teaching my class.

"Be patient," Jacob had had to repeat on several occasions. It was hard, though; how could I be so tired and still not be any closer to keeping up with the Royals?

My frustration, though, was greatest in Repertoire and Pas de Deux. In Rep we were learning Juliet's variation from the first act, when they're all at the Capulet party and she's just a young and carefree girl. It was hardly over a minute long and yet I still had trouble staying en pointe. It didn't look like such a hard combination when I watched Adela do it, and yet I knew I was bound to muck it up as soon as I stepped onto the floor.

Partnering was worse; I couldn't do it. Jacob said I wasn't ready to dance with him yet, and Seth was still 'worried' about his 'injured' knee. So, we both just sat in opposite corners at the front of the class, Seth staring at Amanda and Gerry like a lost puppy whilst I just sat there and watched. I almost felt thankful that Seth refused to dance with me, though; I didn't want to do this pas de deux – it was the balcony scene.

Those same steps Master Carlisle had spent hours teaching to Edward and me in the musty, high-ceilinged studio at _Force _were now being taught to all the Royals in Mister York's boring tone and being performed en mass, everyone behind one another, trying not to kick anyone else. The piece used the whole stage – learning it in a studio with five partnerships all trying to make it look professional didn't work.

Somehow, though, Jacob and Leah looked fine. Well, Jacob did; he was strong enough to perform the complex lifts and steps and still look fluid and unstressed. Leah was a little stiff and she spent most of her time joking around. I notice Jacob getting a little irritated. When he did, though, he just looked at me, reminding both of us that sometime soon _I _would be dancing this pas de deux with him.

But that thought made me feel sick. It was the one time I couldn't fend off Edward. This had been our pas de deux; our dance. Watching everyone do the steps that we had sweated and argued over...it felt wrong.

In Tuesday's partnering class, everyone was working on the same section I had struggled over – the arabesque into the guy's arms. But they weren't struggling; within ten minutes, it was sorted and they were onto the next step. My nails dug into my shins as tried to block out the thoughts I so desperately didn't want to hear.

Jacob casually crouched down next to me to get his water bottle, "Go to the back of the class and fix up the first few steps."

I glanced at him, "What help will that be without a partner?"

He took a swig of water, "Better than nothing. Now go."

I quickly learned that I should always obey Jacob. Not because he was threatening, but because he always seemed to be right; fixing the first few steps took my mind completely away from Edward and instead I sunk into the same mindset that I had had the day before – total focus. Even though they were the same steps I had had to perform with Edward, they seemed completely different when I used the technique Jacob had taught me. The breakdown of the movement gave me a different story to the step than just simply doing it had given.

It was the same for everything I did in those long hours alone in the studio; I relearnt ballet.

Every plié, every arabesque, every ronde de jambe and battement – they all took on a new meaning. I felt almost as if I was learning their secrets.

And as I fixed my pliés on the Wednesday morning, my ninth lesson, I realized that Jacob had been right again; I shouldn't have worried about the time this technique would take.

"Five minutes," he said with a grin, taking a sip of coffee – I swear, the coffee sellers at the Space Needle must have been making a fortune off us – "That's a long way from half an hour, Swan."

I didn't talk back as I had two days ago; I just smiled and kept going, intent on keeping my knees in the right position. It was almost addictive, the small pleasure you got when you fixed part of a movement. When you saw it correct, it was the same feeling as a traffic light going green or catching a ball; a tiny satisfaction which you didn't even notice, but it was still there.

The big satisfaction came, though, on Thursday in Contemporary, which was now my one and only time to kind of rest in a day, aside from the few minutes I had for eating and coffee. We were performing another weird combination with a lot of bending and stretching. Mark, as usual, was getting into it, "Stretch! Like there's nothing keeping you from spiralling your back right around!"

"That gives me the creepiest images," Leah muttered. Gerry and Jacob both sniggered.

"Leah, be quiet. And now reach! Reach like you could take off! And jump!"

Contemporary leaps could be weird – bent legs and random twists – but they were kind of fun. I launched up into the air, not getting anywhere near as much height as Amanda, who was next to me. But I landed softly.

The music came to an end. Mark was looking at me, arms folded, with that twinkle-eyed grin on his face, "Very nice plié, Bella. Very controlled."

Every looked at me, only for a second. I blushed. It wasn't much of a compliment; everyone else got snaps for their tour jetés or fouettes. Still...it was something.

I felt a small pat on my back as we went to the back of the studio for the next combination. I saw Jacob walking away, a little smile on his face.

I felt a thrill run up my spine. _Hell yeah!_

I hadn't even had to think about it – I had just been doing so many damned pliés that when I'd looked in the mirror during the combination, I had fixed every body part in a split second.

After dinner that night, though, the euphoria over Mark's compliment had worn off, "It was just a plié," I said to Jacob.

"Yes, Bella," he said, pushing a needle through the sole of his ballet shoes. "But think of what you'll be looking like when you're doing what you did for that plié in every single step. In your leaps, in your turns..." he waved the needle at me. "That's what we're aiming for. But for now, getting you back up to First Year is our goal, so hurry up and do the combos."

"Will you knit me a scarf if I get there?" I teased as I went to the centre.

He laughed, "Just dance, Swan."

_First Year. _It was so hard to gauge where I was when I was using such a different technique to just normal learning. It was like using a different map. But gradually, I felt my combinations get easier. I didn't fall off my pointe. I kept my posture. I was getting there...

\*\*/*/

Thursday night. I hardly made it up the stairs to my room. A second after opening the door, I had collapsed onto my bed.

My whole body _ached. _It ached like it never had before. All those repeated movements, day after day; my muscles were not prepared for them, nor was my endurance. I was so _tired. _I felt like I could have slept for a week and still wouldn't have been well rested.

But even now, my day wasn't over. _Get up, Bella, _I coerced myself.

Groaning, I rolled off the bed and onto the floor, where I set about stretching and massaging my muscles. _Otherwise it'll be even worse in the morning, _I tried to argue.

Four days of this; seven weeks and three days to go. Of _this..._

_Seven weeks to get Juliet, _I thought conversely. That was what I was doing this for. To not fail.

But tomorrow night was the deadline for the penche and I still wasn't anywhere near. I could hit the one-eighty for a millisecond, but then I would fall off my pointe and that would be it.

_Why could I do it before? _I asked myself as I crawled my upper body forward from the splits, stretching out my back.

I remembered that night; the night I had first hit the penche.

Edward had just forced me into going to Doctor Hill about my concussion – he'd banned me from doing the Review. And I had been so angry.

I had gone to an empty studio, determined to practise in secret. But when I'd gotten there, I had been awful, falling off my pointe and landing sloppily..._just like now! _I realized.

Quickly, I sat up, pulling my legs back in so they were just crossed. _How had I fixed it? How had I gotten my penche then?_

I remembered – I had been listening to the music and it had just _happened._

I forced my pointe shoes back onto my aching feet, not bothering with the lambs' wool. Then I grabbed my iPod from my bag and plugged it into Leah's stereo, not exactly caring that she would mind.

_All of Me._

I stood up, getting in position for the penche, and pressed play.

Those first ascending notes came.

And I was back in the grand theatre of _Force de la Beauté, _the blinding white and blue lights on me and me alone. But this time I knew Edward was here, standing in the wings, watching me.

"_God, I was hypnotised, Bella..."_

I lifted up onto pointe, into an ordinary arabesque. It was just me, just me on the black stage in my glimmering blue and gold tutu. Bella Swan. The dancer.

"_You were like a prima ballerina...as if you were the dancer of my mind's eye."_

I felt my heart soar with the memory of his words. The piano twinkled down. Exhaling, the feeling too much to bear, I lowered, my back leg rising high above me, straight and pointed.

"_Like my own personal perfection..."_

The stage lights warmed my bare arms, made my reaching, elegant fingers look like marble.

I felt like perfection.

"_You were the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, Bella. Ever."_

The music had moved far ahead.

"_Ever."_

I opened my eyes..._they had been closed?_

I was still in a penche! Abruptly, I dropped my leg and was standing once more. I smile lit up my face. I'd done it! I had it! I had my penche!

"You really are Edward Masen's partner."

I looked up. Bridget stood in the doorway in her pyjamas, holding her hairbrush and toilet bag, her red hair in a long wet plait over one shoulder. She was staring at me.

I swallowed, "I was."

She frowned, her brow creasing, "Why don't you do that in class?"

"We don't do penches," I said. "Not in centre."

"Yeah," Bridget said slowly, coming in and putting her stuff on her desk. "And not en pointe. But the balance and strength it takes to do that...I mean, why don't you use it?"

I bit my lip, trying not to make my smile too pretentious. "I don't know..." I looked at her. "But I'm working on it."

"Hmm," she shrugged, her disbelief gone, getting into bed. "Well, maybe one day you'll do that outside this bedroom and stop looking like such a dork all the time."

I was too happy to take offence, "Thanks," I said, before hurrying out the door and down the corridor. I had to tell Jacob! I just hoped he hadn't gone to bed already. I sprung down the stairs, feeling light on my feet, even though two minutes ago I'd hardly been able to walk.

I was just about to charge into the lounge when I heard giggling.

I paused in the doorway to see Jacob and Leah on the couch, entangled in each other's arms in a full blown make out. I blinked. Somehow I felt..._jealous? _Jacob and I had spent so much time together recently, and in classes it felt like we had some private joke between us – everyone else thought I sucked, but we both knew...well, I _hoped..._that I didn't. He was my only friend here...we got coffee together...

But here he was making out with Leah like the world was going to end tomorrow, her hands running down his muscled back, his on her rib cage and butt.

"Stop gawping, _Force."_ a voice whispered from behind me. I spun around to see Gerry strolling down the hallway in nothing but his pyjama pants.

I blinked, shook my head and followed him into the kitchen.

He laughed at the look on my face as he took out a bottle of orange juice from the fridge. "What? Did old Masen never kiss you like that?"

"That's none of your business," I said disgustedly.

Gerry just shrugged and scratched his beard, "Touchy."

I let out a breath and leaned against the kitchen island, "So...how long have Leah and Jacob been going out?"

He gave me a look as he poured, "They've never been 'going out'. They just enjoy each other's company."

I frowned, "So, like...friends with benefits?"

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully, sucking some orange juice off his finger. "Yeah, pretty much. Jacob hasn't had an actual girlfriend in, like, ever." He paused, looking distant, "Except that time on tour in London when he got seriously drunk and I _think _he ended up engaged to some pom..." Gerry cocked his head, "Or maybe that was Australia."

"You guys travel a lot," I observed.

"Sure thing, _Force," _he said. "We're Royals – it's our job to make everyone else know that we're better than them."

"So I've gathered," I said mildly, drumming my fingers on the worktop.

Gerry leaned forward, looking at me studiously, "What are you doing here, _Force?" _he said, like I was the dog who'd somehow gotten inside after dark. "Why aren't you back with your little First Years and Masen?"

"I got offered a scholarship," I said for the thousandth time.

"And you didn't ask Masen for help?" Gerry asked. "What'd you do? Jeté the wrong way and smack your foot into his precious little face?"

"Why do you guys have it in for him?" I asked, frustrated. "His friends never went on about Jacob."

"His friends?" Gerry repeated with a frown. "I'm pretty sure that Emmett guy is too busy taking steroids, those two Russians can hardly speak English and that midget girl's voice is probably too teeny to hear."

I scoffed incredulously, "Are you seriously that rude? I can't believe it!"

"No," Gerry shook his head seriously and looked me directly in the eye, "Believe it, _Force. _We're a family here; if someone's got an issue, we all do. Don't think for a minute that you belong here, and certainly don't think for a minute that we give a crap about your dancing or your screwed up love life. We've seen thirteen other dancers leave this house over the past six years and _all _of them were better dancers than you. So if you're going to continue to stay here then you need to accept that Jacob doesn't like your pretty little boyfriend, so none of us do. We'll say what we like, we'll do what we like, and you do not get to judge. Got it?"

I stared at him, not sure whether I wanted to cry or punch him where it hurts. But instead, I said quietly, "If you're all so close, then why don't you tell everyone about your crush on Seth?"

His jaw dropped.

I gave him a dry smile, "You see a lot of things when no one talks to you."

I took that as my exit and hurried back upstairs. I felt a mean thrill of satisfaction; it had been a fifty-fifty chance, I really hadn't been sure...but just the way always seemed to glance at Seth after making one of his stupid jokes to Amanda. And the way he'd run so fast to get an icepack for Seth's knee. And he was always so teasing – like he had something to hide. Still, it had kind of been a long shot.

My nastiness only lasted me a minute before I started to feel bad; that hadn't been fair.

_Well, _I thought, _at least now it's been spelt out clearly; I don't belong here._

\*\*/*/

"Bella! Focus!" Jacob ordered. It was Friday night. The deadline for the penche.

Gerry had been oddly quiet this morning as everyone tried to move around each other in the corridor and bathrooms. As we'd passed on the stairs, he had given me a nervous look, but didn't say anything with Robbie behind him. My guilt worsened – that had _not _been fair.

"Bella!" Jacob exclaimed again. "Come on."

I blinked and dropped my bag to the floor. "Sorry," I muttered, sitting down to put on my pointe shoes. I was going to need new ones soon – the amount of dancing I had been doing was wearing them out too quickly. "It's been kind of a long week, you know?"

He smirked, "Don't worry; you have another seven to get used to it."

"Ugh," I groaned and pulled myself to my feet.

"You ready?" he asked, standing at the front barre in a scarlet wife beater and sweatpants.

I nodded smugly, going to the centre, "I had it for way over five seconds last night."

"Impressive," he said, folding his arms and giving me a challenging look. "Bring it."

I took a deep breath. _Okay._

I stepped up onto pointe, feeling the toe box secure on the ground. My back leg lifted.

_It's so quiet, _I thought distractedly.

I lifted it higher, up, up. I glanced in the mirror. One-fifty...

And my toes left their pointe and I was standing again. "Damn it," I muttered, pushing a stray hair behind my ear. I looked at Jacob, feeling intensely embarrassed.

He just cocked his head to one side, "Wasn't quite it, was it?"

"I can do it with the Review music," I said frustratedly. "It was perfect, I swear." I went to my bag, "Let me show you..."

"No, Bella," Jacob said, stepping forward.

I turned around, my iPod in my hands, "But I can – "

He shook his head, "You're not doing it with music. Your skills can't be situational, Bella; that's why we are going through everything in so much detail – so that no matter what happens, you will be able to perform. You think they're going to let you switch from Prokofiev to Jon Schmidt so you can perform a penche?"

"No but – "

"Bella," he gave me the you-know-I'm-right look. "Come on. You don't need music; you can do this, just use your technique."

He gestured for me to come back to the centre. I sighed and did as I was told.

"But I can't see myself to fix it without falling off pointe."

"I'll do it for you," he said. He stood in front of me, "Put your hands on my shoulders."

I hesitantly put my palms on his hard muscle, his bare skin hot to mine.

"Step by step," Jacob said quietly, keeping his eyes on mine.

I stepped forward onto pointe, my hands clutching his shoulders.

"Remember your turn out," he said. "Open your hip, keep your leg straight." His eyes scanned my body, "Supporting leg still needs turning out. That's it." I felt a finger on my chin, gentle pulling my eyes back to his. He was calm, focussed, "Face up. Okay, go higher."

I lifted my leg, and as I lifted, he slowly lowered to one knee. "Keep your chest up or you'll lose your balance. Supporting leg still needs strengthening, Bella. Feel the strength from the floor – connect with it. Higher."

He was fully on one knee now, like a danseur, toes pointed.

"Crap," I muttered as I wobbled. Quickly, he put his hands to my waist, steadying me.

"Why did that happened?" he asked patiently.

"Uh," I swallowed, trying to get used to the feeling of his hands gently holding my waist. "I got distracted, lost the height in my chest."

"Good," he nodded. I looked at him. Our faces were so close, staring directly into each other's eyes. I could hear his every breath, though I knew mine were far more abrupt and obvious.

I remembered the last time I had been like this – with Edward. When he'd suddenly appeared in that circle on the stage and I'd been in so much pain...and he wouldn't let me dance alone; he would dance with me. And just before the others were about to part and reveal us, I'd asked him if I meant anything to him...but then they'd parted and we'd danced forward...and he'd knelt before me, and I had lifted my leg high into the air, leaning down and coming face to face with him, so close. It had been like we were the only ones in that theatre...

I remembered the desperation I'd felt on my face; the need to know if he truly loved me...if I wasn't just some silly girl who'd gotten carried away. And his face had expressed a similar desperation; he wanted to tell me everything...

"_What we have, no one could learn. It can only ever be you, Bella."_

I felt a tear slip from my closed eyelid.

"Bella," Jacob said softly.

I opened my eyes. Now it was his face in front of me, not Edward's. "I'm sorry," I whispered, and tried to move back up. But Jacob kept his hands firmly on my waist.

"Bella, you're still on your pointe; keep going." Gently, he took one hand from my waist and brushed the tear from my cheek. His eyes were like brandy in the dimmed studio lights, staring at me with utter determination. "Stay focussed."

I took a deep breath, irritated by my distraction, and blinked away any lingering tears.

"Alright," he said. "One hand at a time."

He took his hand off my waist. Gently, one after the other, I placed my hands in his.

"Okay," he said. "Check your chest and supporting leg again and stay on your box."

I changed what he'd said.

"Better," Jacob said. "But you're leaning on my hands and you're still not focussed."

"I know," I said. My mind was hardly on this at all. "I don't know how..."

"Look at me," he commanded.

I looked nervously back into his eyes.

"This is no different to a plié, Bella. You can do this, easily. Focus. Just do it. Don't think, just focus. You know that mind frame now, you know what it feels like. Put yourself back there and I'll let you go."

_Okay, Bella..._I tried to imagine myself back in a plié. Immediately, the image of myself needed a hundred corrections – feet, knees, butt, hips, chest...

I applied it now to this. Every single problem I felt through my body I tweaked and altered, as if I was smoothing out the creases in a piece of cloth. My eyes left Jacob's and instead set themselves on a spot on the floor. I felt through my body again, from my toes high up in the air to my arched back and supporting leg.

I felt it when it clicked.

"Let go," I said, and took one hand out first, letting it stretch behind me. I fixed it up. "And the other."

Jacob's fingers loosened and then he was gone.

I stared at that spot on the floor. It was a slightly lighter shade of brown to the others – a speck in the wood, perhaps. Tiny, so very tiny.

I felt something drip from my face, but this time it wasn't a stupid tear – it was sweat.

The spot on the floor...the spot on the floor.

And gently, so gently, I let my fingers lift, followed by my torso, my leg slowly lowering, still perfectly en pointe, until my toes touched the ground once more. I gracefully let my arms float back down to my sides, my breath slowly letting out.

My eyes left the brown spot and I looked up.

Jacob stood shaking his head, arms folded, grinning.

"I did it!" I squealed, and threw my arms around his shoulders in a totally unexpected hug. The scent of his aftershave surrounded me. It was familiar now – and I associated it with victory. _I did it!_

He laughed and patted my back, "You did good, Swan. Now you just need to do it twenty more times and I'll give you tomorrow morning off."

I pulled away, smirking at him, "You're a slave driver."

He grinned and raised an eyebrow, "But you can't deny that it works."

I shook my head in disbelief, "Where did you learn this?"

Jacob smirked and went to his bag to get out his water bottle. "A very long time ago in Chicago," he said, taking a sip. "When I was only eight and not really sure I even wanted to dance, I got put with a new teacher; Monsieur Revin."

"I've never heard of him," I said, frowning.

Jacob nodded, "He wasn't exactly liked in the ballet community. His teaching method wasn't fun – it wasn't even logical. Like you said – how can you expect to get through anything when you're spending more than two hours on each move?" he smiled, chucking his water bottle back in his bag and zipping it up. "I guess people didn't like the idea of him making kids as young as me so hell bent on perfection – his motto was _'You will never achieve perfection, but you _will _spend your whole life trying.'"_

"That does sound like a lot of pressure for an eight year old," I said.

Jacob shook his head, "It wasn't pressure; it was a challenge." He flicked me a grin, "Still is. But it's like that for every dancer, whether they know it or not; we are all striving for perfection. It's just that the two of us who were taught under Revin before his studio went bankrupt are closer to it than anyone else ever will be."

"Two of you?" I repeated, frowning.

He gazed at me, "Why do you think Edward and I are so evenly matched, Bella?"

* * *

><p>Hmmm...interesting...<p>

Sorry it took longer than twenty-four hours! Alas, I got pulled away from my laptop for the first decently cooked meal I've had in two weeks...(stranded without a car on the top of a hill...don't ask...)

**Please flick me a review and let me know your thoughts! So helpful!**

****Thanks so much for reading!****


	15. Chapter 15

__Hello!

Okay, really late and I have an internal in seven hours time...in French...ah! Je suis morte!

**Thank you so much for all your reviews!**

**I'm back at school and crazy busy but here I am, thank for all your messages of advice and support!**

**Thank you from the bottom of my heart! :D**

****Okay, sleep time!

**Please review!**

**And enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>The Four Seasons - Vivaldi (gotta love some harpsichord, you know?)<em>

* * *

><p><em>I was in a ballroom. One wall of it was pitch black, the edge of the ballroom floor dropping off into darkness. The blackness scared me as I stood to the side, watching the grand dresses of the ladies spin out in great circles as they spun. It was a waltz of some kind, but full of complex lifts and turns. I observed them nervously – why was I here? I couldn't do that.<em>

"_Miss Swan?" _

_I looked up. A masked man in a shining white and gold tunic and white tights stood before me, his hand outstretched, "May I?"_

_I nodded nervously, afraid to offend, and put my hand in his own. It felt secure around my fingers and the blackness didn't worry me anymore._

"_Bella," he said as we began to waltz effortlessly. "Look at me."_

_I did, seeing through the glittering mask to his eyes – his dark emerald eyes._

"_Edward," I whispered, tears lighting my eyes as a smile came to my lips. "You're here?"_

"_Of course, Bella," he said softly, tilting my chin up. Gently, he leaned forward, both of us standing still in the midst of all the twirling pairs. His soft lips brushed against my cheekbone, kissing away a teardrop. _

"_I've missed you," he whispered, and kissed away another tear._

"_Me too," I breathed, trying not to breakdown completely. "So much, Edward."_

"_Hush," he said, brushing a lock of hair back from my face. He laid his hand against my cheek, "You don't need to worry now. We can be together."_

_I smiled, "Forever?"_

_He smiled back, his eyes lit with emotion, "Forever." And then his hands went to my waist and I rose up high above the other dancers._

_I laughed so happily and let my arms stretch out behind me as he turned me. I shut my eyes, letting the last of my tears go as the air passed my cheeks. _Edward...Edward...

"_Masen!" came a shout. "Bella, get away from him!"_

_I looked down, but Edward wasn't looking at me; he was looking at the men in the red tunics closing in around us._

"_Edward!" I screamed. "Don't!"_

_But it was too late – he let go of me._

_And suddenly the black drop was beneath me and I fell and I fell and finally I landed on hard ground._

_And then there were shouts. Shouts from thousands of people._

_I shakily pushed myself up off the ground and realized that the blackness hadn't been just a dark wall – it had been the audience._

_We had been on stage._

_And I had fallen._

_And now they shouted for me to get off, to never dance again..._

"_Bella!"_

"Bella!"

I shot up in bed, almost colliding with Jacob's head.

"Holy shit!" I swore. Jacob was kneeling by my bed. It was still dark outside and Leah and Bridget were still just rising and falling lumps in their beds.

"Shhh," Jacob said, grinning.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded, pulling the straps of my singlet up.

"_You're _getting up," he said.

"What time is it?" I muttered.

He glanced at his watch, "Ten to five. Get up, get changed – you're returning to technique."

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, "I'm fairly sure that starts at eight."

"Are you saying that Vicky's class matches mine?" he asked. "I'm insulted."

I thwacked him on the shoulder, "You are a huge pain."

"I know," he said happily, standing up. "But I'm also offering you a chance to take class with me, which no one else ever gets to do, so you'd better take it. Now get changed – we're out in ten."

I got showered and changed in a stupor. It was Monday morning, week four; two weeks after I'd got the penche. The past two weeks had been just hard as the first, but somehow it seemed my endurance was building. My muscles weren't so sore in the mornings – they were getting used to the added strain. And now Jacob was giving me harder combinations, including one at the Royals' level. It had been the focus for the fortnight – getting that one combination right. And I had on Friday night, just like with the penche. My steps had flowed, I certainly hadn't gone off pointe. It wasn't a complex combination – it just needed control. Which I was getting.

"Ready to roll?" Jacob said at the door.

"I can't function without coffee at this time," I muttered as we headed out the garden gate and onto the dark street. I looked at him crossly, "You've got me addicted!"

"Ah, my evil plan has worked!" he said mockingly. "Because my father is really a coffee tycoon and my whole reason of learning ballet was to lure innocent girls into coffee addiction." He snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me against him, "Ha!"

"No!" I squealed and pulled away, "I'll go drink tea instead!"

Jacob stopped and locked his hands behind my waist, our bodies flush against one another. My heart beat spiked – this felt...I didn't know...

He raised an eyebrow, smirking, "You wouldn't."

There was a split second when perhaps we both seemed to realize what we were doing. My eyes drifted to his lips, then back to his. The brown seemed to have darkened. _He could feel it, too..._

But just for a split second...

And then I raised an eyebrow back, "Try me." And I broke away and kept walking.

"Don't think I won't, Swan," he said, catching up to me.

I laughed and yet somehow I still felt the heat of his body on me...and I didn't mind it – I kind of liked it.

"So," I said, desperate to get my mind away from it. "What did you mean by I'm 'taking class with you'?"

Jacob shot me a look, "You don't seriously think I stay this good at ballet by sitting and watching you dance or getting bored in Vicky's class, do you?" He chuckled at my expression, "I'm up at this time every morning, Bella, going through exactly what it takes you a whole day to get through. Fixing my moves, rehearsing; all that."

"Using Monsieur Repin's technique?"

He nodded, "It's not exactly something that you ditch when you get good. _'You will never achieve perfection, but you _will_ spend your whole life trying.'"_

"Jeez," I muttered. "Inspiring and all, but how do you survive; getting up at this time every morning?"

He shrugged. We'd reached the back entrance and went through into the dark corridor. "You get used to it. You _will_ get used to it."

I gaped, "Me? Every morning?"

Jacob nodded, "But I am prepared to make it an hour later on the weekends since I need rehearsal time alone, too."

"How kind," I murmured as we went into our usual studio.

Jacob laughed as he flicked on the lights, "Toughen up, Swan; you have a _long _five weeks ahead of you."

He dumped his bag at the front and sat to put his shoes on.

I hesitantly did the same. Dancing in front of Jacob was one thing...but dancing beside him? Trying to keep up with him?

"You won't keep up with me," he said, freakily answering my thoughts. "But we only have five weeks for what took me years. Just watch and learn, get the images into your mind. Then all your other lessons will be the same as usual – at your pace." He snapped the elastic of his black slipper into place and went to barre. I went into place behind him. "Let's do it."

Watching Jacob at work was...mesmerizing.

He would murmur the movement sequence to me before we did it, but aside from that, his focus was all on the mirror in front of him. He didn't do nearly as many repetitions as I had to, but I could see him fixing and repeating, fixing and repeating, his eyes scanning up and down his body quickly.

The strength in everything he did, though; every bend and point and lift of his finger was so deliberate and swift. When he pointed his foot out to the side the swish of his toes on the floor was staccato and so fast and sharp.

Sweat formed on his brow, and I heard his breaths totally in sync with his movements. Never for a moment did he lose focus.

Me? I was almost...inspired. I wanted to have what he had; that strength and focus. I followed along behind him, more watching him than watching myself in the mirror. But I could feel what I was doing wrong; if my movements didn't work like Jacob's – which they never did – then I watched him and saw how to fix it.

The sky began lightening in the windows, past the skyscrapers.

I could feel the sweat on my neck – I could see it in a dark 'v' on Jacob's t-shirt.

The combinations he chose for himself were hard. When he couldn't get something, he would go over it again and again. I had to modify for the mens' movements, but usually that made them easier, though none of them could be described as 'easy'. _Vicky's _combination seemed simpler.

Finally, Jacob finished his last combination and went into a deep calf stretch. I copied.

He glanced round and looked at me for the first time in two hours, his breathing hard, "Ready for that coffee now, Swan?"

"Will we make it in time?"

He wiped the sweat from his brow and stood up, "If we ride, yeah."

"Ride?" I repeated, taking a huge gulp of water. "Like, on a motorbike?"

"You think I own a Shiver Seven-Fifty just for a grand entrance?"

I tried to suppress a smile, "I'm sure if I knew what that was I would be much more impressed."

Jacob chuckled and shook his head, "You are _so _innocent. Come on, let's go – I need caffeine."

\*\*/*/

It was parked round the back of the school. When Jacob lifted off the cover, even I had to gawp.

"That is _sexy," _I said, staring at the shiny red and black exterior.

"Oh, I know," he replied, patting the handlebars. "Gotta love the father who turns up once a year to give me a new toy then buggers off again."

I frowned at his slightly forlorn words, "That doesn't sound good. What does he do?"

"Owns an oil company," Jacob said. He chucked me the helmet. "Come on."

"You're not wearing one?"

He raised his eyebrow, "Not worth it. But God forbid your pretty little head get smashed into the asphalt."

I looked between Jacob and the helmet, "Do I want to do this?"

He gave me his signature smirk, and straddled the bike, "Do you?" He revved the engine.

With a groan, I pushed the helmet onto my head and got on behind him.

"Hold on tight," he warned. I wrapped my arms around his waist, my chest pressed against his back. I prayed he couldn't feel my stupid pulse accelerating. In one move, he'd got the bike around in a one-eighty and accelerated past the main building, the studios blurring and then disappearing as we got out onto the street.

"Holy crap!" I squealed.

I felt Jacob's chuckle through his back, "Typical ballerina."

I fastened my arms tighter around him and he sped down the empty road.

A laugh bubbled from my mouth unexpectedly, "This is awesome!"

He accelerated, the wind shooting past us.

We passed the Space Needle and our usual coffee shop – neither of us exactly wanted to get off. Instead, we went straight down Broad Street to the docks. It felt so good to have the fresh sea air whipping at my clothes as we shot by. We were well over the speed limit, but there weren't so many people around and fortunately no cops.

_This _was freedom

Eventually, we turned left and back into the streets. Jacob slowed, navigating his way easily to a Starbucks on the corner of First Avenue and Pike Street.

My legs were stiff when we got off, "Intense ballet and motor biking in one morning," I muttered, taking off my helmet. "Not a good idea – woops!"

I stumbled forward into Jacob's arms. My heart thudded, but not from the fall, as he helped me straighten up. I looked up at him, that same feeling I'd had before practise this morning. But he just smirked and patted me on the head, "And you call yourself a dancer, Swan?"

He pulled me inside before I could say anything else, not that I knew what I would've said – _"Uh, Jacob...I'm starting to notice your incredibly hard biceps in a slightly different way and would you please stop looking at me like that – I might faint."_

\*\*/*/

I didn't even need the coffee; by the time we were back at Aro's, the wind had woken me up and I was ready for class. And late.

"Do exactly what you do in our lessons, Bella," Jacob instructed me as he wheeled his bike back to its parking spot. "Don't let any of them faze you. Remember, your skills aren't situational – no matter what music there is or what idiotic comments are made, don't lose your focus."

"Okay," I nodded.

"Go," he said, pulling the cover back on. "I'll be there in a sec. Just stay focussed."

"Got it."

I glanced at my watch as I got back inside – eight fifteen. _Crap!_

I hurried back up to the second floor, pulling off my warm up clothes as I went.

"Bella," Vicky drawled as I burst in the door. "So good of you to join us for the first time in three weeks."

The ten Royals all stared at me, hands on their hips.

"I was going to the physio," I said. "For my ankle."

Vicky pushed a piece of hair out of her face, "Convenient that all your physio sessions were booked during my class."

I shrugged, "It was the only available time." It was scary, the way the lies flowed as easily from my lips as the truth.

Vicky sighed, "Go to the back and warm up; join us when you're ready."

"I'm warm," I said. _I can't let her divide me from everyone else before I've even started..._

She narrowed her eyes, obviously not enjoying being challenged. "Fine, still go to the back."

The beautiful and awful thing about ballet studios and their mirrors is that everyone can see everything. And I felt everyone's gaze on me. Maybe they sensed that something had changed...

But I knew I had to take Jacob's advice and stay focussed.

Gradually, everyone else disappeared and it was just me and my reflection again, fixing and fixing and fixing some more.

The only time I broke focus was when Jacob sauntered in. His entrance set off a weird thrill in my chest.

"Is it Christmas or something?" Vicky asked, coming forward to meet Jacob as he took his place between Leah and Gerry. "Two absentees returned in one day?"

I noticed Leah glancing between the both of us – considering the connection that no one else, including Vicky, had thought of. I looked down at my feet. The last thing I needed was Leah on my back.

"You're really that happy to see me, Victoria?" Jacob asked with fake innocence.

"Overjoyed," she muttered in reply. "Battements!"

Class continued on as usual, except that when Vicky passed me, she could only look. My barre exercises were much better now – almost on par with the rest of the Royals.

It was when we got to the floor that I fell behind a little.

My mind still wasn't quick enough at remembering and processing the steps, and so mistakes were inevitable. But at least I didn't lose my balance nearly as much as I had before.

By the end of the lesson, though, I was nervous. Everyone lined up and said their thanks to Vicky. I stayed at the back, hoping most people would be gone by the time she got to me.

"You're better," she stated when I finally reached her. "Your turn out is actually existent now, as is your sense of balance." She looked up at me and I was once again reminded of just how young she was, "But any of our Class B students would have those skills down."

"My ankle still hurts," I lied quickly. _No! _my mind cried. _This cannot be happening! After all the work we've done!_

Vicky twisted her lips, "I don't exactly buy that, Bella. But since you've supposedly just come off an injury, I will give you this week to prove to me that you're meant to be here. If I don't see anything by the end of Friday's class then you will be moved down to the Blues and there will be no arguments and no convenient injuries. Got it?"

I nodded, "Yes."

\*\*/*/

"Guess we've got our goal for the week, then," Jacob said. We were having our after-dinner lesson, and he was leaning against the barre with his arms folded, shaking his head. "That woman is a bitch."

"She was right, though," I said. "I'm still not at their level."

"You're not," he admitted. "She's still a bitch, though. Anyway, so long as you work hard, you will get there."

"But how do I even put this into a goal?" I said, wrapping my arms around my knees. "I mean – she wasn't even specific; there weren't exactly criteria."

Jacob shook his head, "But it's Vicky – the only way you can show her that you're meant to be a Royal is to dance better than one of the Royals."

I put a hand to my forehead. Being one of them didn't seem like such a struggle, but _beating _one of them? I mean, I knew I was going to have to beat all of them eventually to get Juliet...

"But not in a week," I said out loud.

"Don't worry, Bella," Jacob said. "You don't have to dance like Adela or Leah yet. You just need to dance next to Danny and Amanda and make sure you dance better than them. Be right when they're making mistakes, stand out when they fade away."

"That sounds deceptively easy," I said with narrowed eyes. "You're not thinking laxatives in their water bottles, are you?"

Jacob snorted, "A good plan, but I think that would just make them absent, not bad." He strolled over to me and offered me a hand. "No, Bella," he said as he pulled me up. "You can do this without pharmaceuticals."

"But with a lot of coffee?" I said in compromise.

He smirked, "That might be possible. Start off with the port de bras."

\*\*/*/

I watched Danny and Amanda in class every day when I wasn't dancing myself, trying to find their weaknesses. I knew I had to be better than them in every way, but if I was good at something that they weren't then that would at least cover my bases a little.

But they seemed pretty flawless to me.

"Everyone has flaws, Bella," Jacob told me. "_'You will never achieve perfection, but you will spend your whole life trying.'"_

So I began to see that Amanda didn't quite have the right timing on jumps, resulting in a loss of height. Danny couldn't hold her fouettes for very long. Neither of their battements was very high, and I doubted they could penche en pointe. Those were the things I focussed on when I was alone.

With Jacob, he taught me that the most obvious flaws were always seen in adagio – the slow combinations, with lots of leg holds and graceful arm movements – because there was more time to lose control. But he also taught me that the timing in allegro was key. I had to have both sorted by Friday.

And by Thursday night, it looked like they were going to be.

The problem was transferring all that I was learning in my lessons with Jacob into class with everyone else. I still couldn't attain the same amount of focus there that I could in the empty studio. But I needed to, somehow. My combinations with Jacob were better now than Danny's, at least. But when I was around them, things got awry. Thursday morning had been better, but hearing everyone else's voices and the sound of other people's shoes and even the _music _distracted me.

I knew that I still wasn't at the level Vicky wanted, and it was obvious in the way she shook my hand when I finished each class. She knew she was winning.

As instructed by Jacob, I went to bed early on Thursday night, but I just lay there, thinking through the myriad of advice and corrections he'd given me.

It was an hour later when there was a shout from downstairs, "Bella! Phone!"

_Phone? _I pushed my covers off and hurried downstairs. "Who is it?" I asked Bridget.

She shrugged and handed it to me.

"Hello?"

"Bella!"

"Alice!"

Her voice went onto fast forward, "I couldn't believe it when Jazz told me he'd talked to you! But he was so stupid and he didn't even think to ask why you were calling Doctor Hill! And then I couldn't believe it but we never exchanged cell numbers! Which was ridiculous! And I asked so many people! And so I spent ages trying to get your number but the people at reception were so unfriendly and grumpy about giving me your boarding house number and so eventually I asked Carlisle and then Esme just snapped and picked up the phone and in, like, three seconds she had the number and I'm so sorry it took so long, Bella!"

I had frozen at the bottom of the stairs. _Yep, that is definitely Alice..._

"Bella?"

I cracked up laughing, finally unfreezing and running up the stairs and into my dark room, "Alice, it is so good to hear your craziness again!"

"And yours, too!" she said. "I can't believe it! It's been way too long! And what _were _you doing calling Doctor Hill?"

I flicked on the bedside lamp and flopped down onto my bed, "Oh, it was just for my documents..."

"Are you okay?" she sounded so concerned. _Someone who's actually worried about me..._

"Yeah," I said. "I just needed to let Aro's know about my ankle and stuff."

"So what's it like?" she said excitedly. There was a slight echo on the other end. _She must be in the Entrance Hall, _I thought, and immediately thought back to that grand cherry wood hall with the great staircase. "What's Aro's like? Spare me no detail! I want to know everything from the fashion to the jetés to the hot guys!"

"Well...where to begin. Well, the fashion is all red in my class – they're called the Royals, which seems kind of pretentious but they are really good..."

It felt so good to talk to someone – it had been ages since Angela's visit and I needed to just talk. And Alice was good at that kind of thing. So I told her all about the colour coding and the modern architecture and the city and the teachers. I told her about the characters of the class – the scandal with Gerry and Seth which only I knew about, Leah and her bitchiness, Danny and her crazy comments. She groaned when I described Bridget's bed to her, "Really, Bella?" she said, "How can you even stay in the same room?"

But whilst I seemed to speak for ages about Aro's, I had managed to tell her nothing about how I fit into it all – how I had almost been dropped and was about to be again. And I hadn't even mentioned...

"So have you seen Jacob Black at all?" she asked chirpily. I decided she was walking down the second floor corridor now – it had always been loud there when it was raining, and I could hear the downpour.

"Uh, yeah," I said hesitantly, twirling my finger around a piece of hair. "He's in my class."

"What's he like?" she asked curiously.

"Um..." _Think of something... _"Well, he's really hot."

Alice giggled, "I _know _right?! I always wondered if he got some amazing spray tan or something."

"I don't think so," I said.

"What's his dancing like? I haven't seen him in ages."

"He's really good," I said. "Really good." I paused, biting my lip, "As good as Edward."

Alice's voice sobered, "I know. It's funny, I guess; two completely brilliant dancers but they couldn't be more different..." she sighed, "Bella, I know you probably don't want to talk about it, but I need to know – are you okay about everything? It was such an abrupt ending, Bells. So much was left unsaid."

"I think everything was pretty clear," I said quietly. "I mean...he's moved on, right?"

Alice let out a breath, "I don't know. I guess...he hasn't said anything about you for months. I don't even think he's mentioned your name..." she let out an empty laugh, "Sorry, that's not exactly a nice thing to hear."

"No," I said quickly. "It's fine – I'm glad he's over me, really I – "

"Ali!" came a big, deep shout. _Emmett!_ "We're playing cards and we need a fourth person! What are you doing out here?"

I heard the smile come back into Alice's voice, "Talking to someone..."

"Did that weird leopard-fur costume designer finally get back to you?"

"Rude, Emmett!" Alice scolded. "One sec," she said to me. "I'm putting you on speaker!"

"Seriously, Ali, who is it?" Emmett asked. There was an opening and closing of a door. The common room door?

"Jasper, you're out of the dog house," Alice declared. "She's alive." I heard the plonk of the phone being put on a hard surface.

"Hello?" I said confusedly.

"Bella?" I heard Emmett exclaim.

"Hey Emmett!" I said, grinning outright.

"She has not been brainwashed!" That Russian accent was Rosalie's, no doubt.

"Not quite," I replied happily, not feeling the usual fear I had with her. She could be very imposing...

"Alice had me convinced you were dying in a hospital bed," Jasper said. I imagined him putting an arm around her tiny shoulders right now. Sure enough, there was Alice signature squeak as she wriggled into his side. "Good thing you're not or I'd be dead, too."

"You sure would be, Jazz," Alice said happily.

"So how are all you guys?" I asked.

"Tired," was the general chorus.

"Freaking sword fighting," Emmett muttered. "Can't Mercutio just get poisoned like Juliet?"

"That was Romeo, meathead," Rosalie said. I heard the expected 'thwack'. "You don't even know the story!"

"You guys are rehearsing _Romeo and Juliet?" _I asked. "You're all coming?"

"Yep!" Alice said excitedly. "All the Third Years! Coming to you in five weeks! God, I can't wait to see you, Bella!"

"Just promise there's an adequate dining hall," Emmett said. "If this production is anything like it's shaping up to be, I am going to need me some good food."

"Emmett," Rosalie chided. "You get gassy on a full stomach."

"Rose!" he hissed, whilst everyone else, me included, laughed.

There was a knock on the door which made me break away from the _Force_ senior common room.

"Bella?" The door opened and Jacob stood there, bathed in the light from the corridor, wearing only a pair of pyjama pants, his six pack hard and defined, all his skin golden.

I hardly noticed my lips parting, my breath quickening ever so slightly.

"Who's that?" Exclaimed Alice's voice over the line.

"Um," I said, still staring at him. "A friend."

"Hi Bella's friend!" Alice chimed excitedly. I swallowed. _It's not uncommon...this is normal...normal, normal, normal..._I mean, it was normal – everyone knew that ballet dancers were pretty free when it came to their bodies; sometimes there wasn't time to get back to the dressing rooms. Guys had done it at _Force – _God knows I'd seen Mike's chest way too many times. And, well...what was inappropriate about his tanned chest being on display?

My reaction was what was inappropriate.

Jacob gazed at me, as if not registering my gaping mouth, "I thought you said you were going to bed."

I heard Emmett guffaw on the other end, "Yes, Dad! Can you tuck me in!"

Jacob ignored the piece of technology in my hands and instead raised his eyebrows expectantly at me.

"I've gotta go," I said hesitantly, not breaking eye contact. "Kind of a big day tomorrow."

"Damn!" Alice said. "Okay, but you have got to call us soon!"

"I will," I said quietly. "Bye guys."

"We miss you, Bells!" Emmett shouted. "Don't do anything I wouldn't!"

That made me laugh and look down, "Right. Sound advice, Em."

"I'm always told that I'm just like my father," he said, and I could just imagine him winking.

I grinned, "See you!"

There was a chorus of 'goodbyes' and then the line ended.

I let out a breath and looked back up at Jacob. "Sorry," I said. _Don't look at his chest...or his stomach...God! Those abs... _"Unexpected call."

He just nodded, "Don't get distracted, Bella. Now get to bed."

I stopped the smile that came with the thought of Emmett's reply, instead I nodded and pushed back the covers and climbed in. "Happy?" I asked, pulling the comforter over my bare knees. Why did my boxer shorts and singlet suddenly feel incredibly scanty?

Jacob narrowed his eyes, "I'll be happier tomorrow, after class."

"I hope," I muttered.

"I will be," he said simply. "Now sleep."

"Goodnight," I muttered as he shut the door.

* * *

><p>This is another half-chapter! It got too long again! So update will be within the next few days :D<p>

I'm back at school now and it's exam season so, alas, academics will always be first.

However, I seem to still be on a roll, so don't expect a huge hibernation! I can't stay away from our dear danseurs and danseuses for long!

**Please flick me a review and tell me your thoughts! Update will be up soon!**

**Thanks for reading!**


	16. Chapter 16

Hey!

Okay, must go - got a looooot of studying to do...

**Thank you so much for your words of wisdom and encouragement and advice!**

**There were some really touching ones and it warms my heart to know that you're enjoying this and perhaps Pas de Trois is even helping you escape the stresses of life (It certainly helps me procrastinate..._)_**

Hope you review!

And Enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>Beautiful Ending - Barlowgirl (Just discovered - cool!)<em>

_Some Nights - Fun_

_Superchick - Still Here (Right back to Clair de Lune...good times!)_

* * *

><p>Barre went well, just as we had anticipated; with something to hold onto and eleven other people for Vicky to look at, I could keep myself centred. Besides, I had been doing well in barre all week.<p>

"Alright, everyone," Vicky said, clapping her hands. "To the centre. Starting with adagio. We go fifth position, développé, hold, and move into front arabesque, lean into it." I tried to visualise the movements rather than mark them out, trying to imagine them being performed perfectly. "Passé down, up into attitude, demi pointe. And then promenade and down." She finished demonstrating and clapped her hands again, "Go to!"

Everyone hastily got into their lines of three. I slotted myself between Amanda and Danny and let my mind run through the movements in my head as everyone in front of us went.

And then it was us. We spaced ourselves in the centre, me behind the two others.

"And one two and..."

The three of us drew our right toes up the side of our legs, holding our arms in an oval in front of us. None of us shook.

"And bring it out."

I ignored Vicky's irritating voice, keeping my eyes focussed on the mirror as I slowly brought my toe out, making my leg point to the edge of the ceiling.

_Ignore the others, _my mind said calmly as we gently turned our bodies and went into a normal arabesque. I felt my hips turn easily, my standing leg hardly moving as my top half glided into the move.

I felt my breath slowly exhale as I lowered my leg back down with ease. I was in a world of my own – all there was was my body and the mirror. I saw the tiny flaws and fixed as I went, drawing my leg back into attitude and easily turning on my flat foot. I felt my upper body turn smoothly the whole revolution, unhindered my foot shifting underneath to get me round. Almost as I had a partner.

Then I brought my leg back down into fifth position and let my arms gently fall back into the oval.

"Right," Vicky said, looking at me with a twist in her lips.

I blinked, bringing myself back into the room. I was still standing with tall posture, still with one foot horizontal in front of the other. Amanda and Danny were both standing normally beside me, glancing at me.

Dumbly, I shook myself out of it and headed back to the back barre.

I raised my eyebrows at Jacob. Had I done well? Had I compared at all?

He just gave me a smirk and a wink and started the combination for himself.

I let out a breath of relief. It must have been okay.

"Did she choke on some fairy dust?" Leah muttered to Gerry. "Why wasn't she doing that yesterday? Or last week? Or last, like, month?"

As he had been for the past couple of weeks, Gerry just sniggered but said no more. I had still to decide whether that was rude enough to warrant exposure...but I realized I could never do that. I'd just have to hope the threat stuck.

Vicky started calling out the next combination and I forgot all about it, again letting myself sink into that focus.

By the time we got into allegro, I knew I was doing well. At least, in comparison to Danny and Amanda. I wasn't sticking out. I was blending. I was blending very well, aside from a couple of mistakes.

For the last two turn combinations, I had stood out a little again – but this time in the best way possible. Their flaws had worked to my advantage and for once I was on the beat when they weren't.

But was it enough?

I could see Vicky contemplating it as I finished another allegro combination. She was hardly looking at Jacob's group, instead I knew she was looking at me, and I knew that these last ten minutes would decide whether I stayed in this class or not.

"Okay," she said, standing up from her seat as soon as the boys had finished. She flexed and pointed her toes. "Final combination."

Of course she wasn't going to make it easy – she had turned it into an endurance test.

I swallowed nervously and looked to Jacob for support. He just nodded, telling me I could do this.

With a deep breath, I got back behind Amanda and Danny in the corner this time, and the music began.

It started off kind of small...

...and then the jumps and battements were in and any chance of breath was out.

"Keep it in time!" Vicky ordered, clapping the beats. "And développé – to the beat!"

I flung my leg up high and back down, then swept right into a tour jeté, not stopping or thinking. I knew the others were behind, just a little. "Fouette, let's go! And tombeé!"

My legs seemed to move without me needing to think. I heard the hard wood of my pointe shoes touch the ground exactly on the chord of the piano, then fast I was back up and turning again.

_I'm doing this! _I thought as I spun. _I can do this! _

"Into the batterie!"

The combination was into its hardest section – leaps in a circle around the room. Jeté, turn, jeté, turn...over and over.

I gasped a breath and began, high in the air one second and in a tight turn the next. I felt my breaths shortening. _I can do this! _I thought to myself, determined not to give in. _I prove myself! I can prove myself to _him!

"_I had taken you way out of your depth."_

I felt the ache in my legs. _I'm not out of my depth anymore._

_"Have I ruined your prospects?"_

My lungs squeezed. The room spun, the shot past as I leapt, then spun. _Still going..._

"_He will soon see that you're not capable of meeting the standards that he sets for himself and, in turn, for his partner."_

Tap, tap, leap. Tap, tap, leap. I gasped in another breath. _Keep going..._

_"Just leave him alone, Bella."_

My legs ached more...

_"You're going to make a massive mistake, Edward."_

I couldn't do this. How could I do this?_ Keep going. Turn, jeté, turn, jeté._

_"He's already taken the photo of you out of his picture frame."_

How could I ever have even thought I could do this? _But I have to keep going..._

"_I don't even think he's mentioned your name..."_

I felt my jumps get weaker, lower.

"_You have no faith in us, do you?"_

I stopped mid-leap. My knee jarred as I landed, my breath coming in horrible gasps, mixed with sobs.

"Shit!" Danny cried, landing awkwardly to avoid me.

"What are you doing?" Vicky demanded. I saw her teachers' shoes as she came to stand in front of me.

I couldn't catch a hold of my breath, and so I just shook, my hands on my knees, my back arched, trying to hold myself together.

"Sorry," I gasped, watching a tear drip onto the floor. _Why was I like this? Why the Hell did I have to be like this?_

I heard Vicky's frustrated sigh, "Alright, class finished. Bella, up front."

I bit my lip hard as everyone went to pack up their stuff.

No one said anything to me. I didn't know where Jacob was. I just knew he'd be disappointed.

_Deep breaths, _I told myself. I had to get out of this position and stand up straight – I had to save my last tiny shred of dignity.

With the shivering gulps of air still assailing my body, I straightened up and went to where Vicky sat at the front of the studio.

I didn't bother to say anything – I myself didn't know what had happened. One minute I had been great, the next...I was here, with tear-streaked cheeks and all my goals completely, hopelessly out of reach.

"I've given you a month, Bella," Vicky said quietly.

I realized the room was almost silent. Everyone knew what was about to happen, and I guessed they wanted to savour it.

I forced myself to look at Vicky as she continued, "You were crap that first week, and then you were absent for the next two, and then this week I thought that maybe you weren't such a typical _Force _student who'd somehow managed to get herself into my class. But then you go and do this," she waved her hand at my state. "And make my mind up for me. You dance inconsistently, Bella, and that is not at the level of a dancer in their last year of training. You can't just stop in the middle of performance – it doesn't work like that."

I nodded, saying nothing. She was right.

"So," she said, pulling a piece of paper out of her bag and scribbling on it. "I'm putting you with the Whites – Class C."

"C?" I repeated.

She nodded, "First Year if you're at _Force." _She handed the paper to me with an insincere smile, "You'll be better suited to that class."

Jacob was gone when I turned to get my bag. Everyone else stood muttering to each other, quite a few with smiles on their faces.

\*\*/*/

When I'd handed Vicky's note in at reception, the woman had said I had to attend Class A lessons for the rest of the day and I'd start with the Whites on Monday.

But I was not going to be in the same room as the Royals for another four classes – that would just break me even more.

So I walked along the airy corridors, staring out the glass walls at the heavy grey sky. Winter, it seemed, wasn't over yet. The trees in the courtyard rustled agitatedly and a cold draught blew through the corridor from an open door somewhere.

_Juliet, _I thought with bitter humour. _I thought I had a chance of getting Juliet when I couldn't even stay in the class..._

There would be no NFSI anymore, I realized. _No Edward..._

Something through one of the studio windows caught my eye – I realized it was Jacob, sitting on the floor in the splits, texting.

Tentatively, I knocked on the door and went in. "Jacob?" I said nervously.

"Bella," he said, not looking up. His brow had that focussed crease in it.

He kept on texting for a couple of minutes while I stood by the door. What could I say? What could I do? There was nothing left for me to learn now that I wasn't in his class anymore; the goal hadn't been reached.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out into the silent studio. "I don't know what happened."

"You do," he said, standing up, his back still turned to me. He tossed his phone into his bag.

"It just happened," I said quietly. "I just got distracted and I couldn't keep going – "

"You were _crying, _Bella!" he exclaimed, turning to face me, his eyes flaming. "What sort of a dancer does that, Bella? 'Distracted' doesn't even begin to describe your dancing! You're a freaking minefield!" he gave an incredulous laugh, "One penche and you're crying! One mention of 'trust' and you close yourself up like it's something desperately important. Your friends call and immediately nothing here matters, because they can certainly help save your dancing from the other side of the state." Jacob shook his head, "Honestly, Bella, what do you expect me to do with you? I only have so many inspirational words left in my system."

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Jesus!" Jacob exclaimed. In two short strides, his hands were on my shoulders and his face was in front of mine, "You don't _get _it, do you? Words mean nothing! I don't give a crap if you're sorry, Bella. I don't give a crap if you're ecstatic. You can't _dance!_ You can't take initiative, you can't motivate yourself. You can't even stick to your damn bedtime!"

"Jacob..."

But he leaned forward, his hands pressing in, his eyes studying me, "What is it, Bella? What is stopping you from moving forward?" He gave me a little shake, "Why, Bella?" He demanded. "Tell me!"

Something snapped. "Get _off _me!" I shouted. In one movement, I'd pushed his hands off me and shoved him away, watching him stumble a little. My breath was heavy and stiff, "Stop treating me like a child!"

There was silence. Both our chests rose and fell fast. I stared at him. He stared at me.

And then in two steps I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my mouth against his. He reacted immediately, his hands wrapping around my waist, his lips hot against my own.

"Edward," I breathed, my fingers clawing at his hair as our mouths battled. "He's why."

"Fight it," Jacob muttered back, his hand clamping around the back of my neck. "Fight him."

I groaned and pushed myself closer. Quickly, Jacob was lifting me up, his hands on my butt, my legs wrapping around his waist. I felt my back against the barre, his chest against my own, "Fight him," he repeated, slanting his mouth across mine, his nails running down my thigh as mine dug into his shoulder blade. I gasped at the feeling, letting his tongue into my mouth. I heard his moan, "Fight that bastard."

_Bastard._

The word burned through to me. I pulled back. Jacob blinked, then stepped back, putting me back down on the floor.

"Don't deny it, Bella," he said, gathering his breath.

I shook my head, crossing my arms over my heaving chest, "I – I mistreated him."

"How?" Jacob asked, the same way he'd ask me what was wrong with my turnout.

I looked down at the floor. My breathing was still fast. "I didn't tell him I was moving here. I led him on, made him think we were going to be together."

"Why didn't you tell him?"

"Because I didn't want to ruin our time together..." I pressed my lips together, still swollen from Jacob's mouth. "Even though he could've helped me. But I wasn't sure he would..." I shut my eyes, "He said I should have trusted him. That I had never had any faith in us."

"Why didn't you?"

"I thought I wasn't good enough," I whispered. "I thought he would surely leave me at some point and find a better dancer – someone who could keep up with him, who wouldn't just slow him down. I thought he'd find someone else..." I looked up suddenly, the realization hitting me fresh and cold, "And he did. He did find someone else. Tanya was there that day...with Edward's father. And they'd been speaking on the phone all the time...what if that was what they were organising? Tanya's return?"

I clutched the barre, feeling my fingers curl around the wood. "He _had _always been planning to leave me," I said darkly, looking at Jacob. "I was right not to trust him."

He nodded, "It was he who didn't deserve you, Bella; not the other way around. You can't be dictated by him anymore. You can't let your guilt hold you back. It's that bastard's fault."

I blinked, looking down as I muttered, "I heard you were biased, though."

Jacob shook his head, "Bella, this is _why _I don't like him," he said, stepping toward me. "He hurts people and he doesn't give a crap. And the best way to stop him is to prove him wrong, not let him make you believe he's right."

I remembered something Alice had once said..."_If you have Edward Masen as a partner then he will unfailingly make you amazing. He will put every bit of his energy into making you great. But if Edward finds someone else, then you're screwed. And that's where he's totally unreliable. Edward stays with a partner as long as she's the best offer."_

Anger raced through my mind. _I should have known; I should have seen it._

"How can I prove him wrong now, though?" I asked quietly. "I'm not even with the Royals anymore. I'm not going to the NFSI."

Jacob abruptly picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, "You'll figure it out, Swan."

"But I – " I began, then stopped myself; _I_ will _figure it out._

Jacob winked at me as he pushed open the door and left.

I stood there in the middle of the studio, my mind in a whirlwind.

I'd been thrown out of the Royals.

Edward had betrayed me.

I had kissed Jacob.

And now I was alone. _Alone..._because now I wasn't tied to Edward. Jacob was right; I had been letting Edward dictate how well I danced. Today in the studio it had been him in my head, telling me I couldn't do it, asking why I thought I could do it when I hadn't thought myself worthy of _him._

I hadn't realized that my lack of faith hadn't been just because I was a First Year and my skills weren't so good – my lack of faith in us had come from his lack of faith in me. Somewhere, deep down, I had known he would leave me for a better dancer. And he had.

So I didn't need to feel guilty for not believing in myself. I didn't need to feel guilty for having no faith in our partnership. I didn't need to justify that lack of faith. He hadn't believed in me either.

But now?

Now I was going to show him and everyone else just how I could dance. There would be no more distractions or questions; I was Bella Swan, a dancer in my own right.

And there was one more thing I needed to do to cut myself away from Edward forever.

\*\*/*/

Everyone stared when I walked into Partnering. Like me, they had thought I wouldn't show up for the rest of the day. But I put my bag down under the barre and began to stretch like everyone else, as if I hadn't just been dropped back two years.

"Why is she even bothering to warm up?" Leah muttered to Jacob.

"The port de bras needs fixing," he said, ignoring her words as he pulled his sweater over his head to reveal his deep red wife beater underneath.

I felt a blush come to my cheeks. Only an hour ago, I'd been running my nails down that back, clutching those biceps, kissing those lips...

_I don't need to feel guilty, _I thought with a smile. _I don't need to worry that I enjoyed it...a lot._

Mister York walked in, then, and I took my leg off the barre. _But I do need to focus now._

"Afternoon, all," he said with a wave, pulling out his choreography notes. "Assuming you're all warm and en pointe so we can get right to it, yes?" He clapped his hands, "Let's get going."

_Now or never..._

I stepped forward, "Excuse me, Mister York."

He blinked and looked at me. Everyone else stopped getting in position. Mister York frowned, "I thought you were being moved to Class C, Bella."

"Next week," I said. _That doesn't matter. _"But today I'm still in your class. And I want to start Pas de Deux again."

"Get real," Leah muttered dismissively, raising her eyebrow at Gerry.

Mister York gave me a confused look, "Uh...okay." He turned to where Seth sat, mortified, "Seth would you mind –"

"I don't want to dance with Seth," I interrupted, my gaze fixed on Mister York.

He turned back round to look at me, "Well, I'm afraid he's the only – "

I shook my head, "I want to dance with Jacob."

Mister York stared at me open mouthed, whilst the Royals slowly broke out into hesitant laughs.

Jacob gave me a look which clearly said 'What the Hell do you think you're doing?', but I took a deep breath and looked back to Mister York, "Well?"

His brow furrowed, "Well, I'm afraid you'll have to ask Jacob, Bella. You can't simply request..."

"Is that how you got your prom date?" Leah joked to the amusement of the others.

I waited until their laughter had subsided before I looked at Jacob. He stared back warningly now, but I couldn't be deterred. "So?" I said. "Can I dance with you?"

"You're not serious?" Leah scoffed. "You actually think Jacob _Black _is going to dance with you?"

"What?" I said, cocking my head to one side. "You afraid you'll lose him?"

"I'm afraid he'll lose a finger or something," she smiled sweetly.

I rolled my eyes and looked instead at Jacob, "Well?"

He gazed at me. I tried to envisage what he was seeing – a totally different Bella to this morning, I could guess. A ruthless, _confident _Bella. Slowly, his eyes locked with mine, he nodded.

Leah did a double-take – so classic it was comical – and exclaimed, "You have got to be joking!"

"I'm assuming you want the Balcony Pas de Deux?" he asked, pulling off his warm up pants.

I nodded, untying my wrap top, "The second section."

"She doesn't even know it," Danny said confusedly as everyone cleared the floor, backing up against the barres.

"The lengths you go to entertain us," Gerry said, patting Jacob on the back as he went to stand next to Leah, who was brooding by the door.

Jacob ignored it all. His eyes were on me and me alone. He was getting into focus, and I knew I needed to as well. I put my mind onto the second section, remembering every step in my head. After two months, the moves were still there in my head. But this time I _had _to execute them.

_No, _I thought sternly. _I _will _execute them._

"Ready?" Mister York said, not bothering to conceal the doubt in his voice.

I nodded and went to stand beside Jacob. He went to one knee, taking my hand.

There was only one more thought that had somehow slipped into my focus – _When Edward did this, it felt like he was holding my hand..._when we had been rehearsing this, everything had been such a mess. But even then, such a simple move and we were together again. _It's just holding a hand, _I said to myself and blocked further irritations off.

I looked down at Jacob, he looked up at me. _Trust._

The music began.

I pulled away from him, tiptoeing backward on my pointes and then I turned and ran softly. I knew he was behind me as I went up into arabesque, feeling my legs stretch deliciously. And then one arm was around my lifted thigh, the other around my waist. My pointe left the floor and he effortlessly swung me back. My abs were tight, my chest raised, my legs strong and my fingers soft. Exactly what Carlisle had wanted when he'd taught me this.

I heard Jacob's exhale at the same time as mine as he balanced me back on my pointe. He sensed when I was balanced and let me go. I took two steps forward, my arms behind me almost as if I was flying, and then Jacob's hands were on my rib cage and I really was up in the air, my back bent over his hands. He slowly walked backwards. I had no fear he'd drop me. My body was taut, his arms were strong. And it had been the lift the rest of the class had struggled with.

In another exhale, he lowered me back down and I tiptoed away once again. I vaguely remembered Carlisle telling me something about what she was thinking here, but all I wanted to remember from those classes was steps, and nothing else.

I turned and Jacob was on one knee again. I ran up into an arabesque and he wrapped his hands around my waist. He pulled me forward as my ankles lifted from the ground and crossed. I was now practically balanced on his chest. It was a hard move – now he had to lift me up and down and if I lost any of my tension, we would both be a pile on the floor. Quickly, I ran my eyes up my body in the mirror, fixing as I went. The movement came easier, so fluidly – as if I was bobbing up and down on the ocean.

After another count, he put me down. Both of us were sweating, but our breaths were still in sync. I left him once more and he stretched from where he knelt, reaching for me.

This part was the reason why I'd chosen the second section; Juliet had a few seconds of solo, supposedly when she's describing her own love and excitement to Romeo. But I wasn't thinking about that as I turned.

_Arms higher, keep on the centre of the toe box, supporting leg needs more grounding, breathe..._

I danced around Jacob almost effortlessly – or, at least, I thought it would look effortless to an audience. Every second, my mind was running up and down my body, telling it what to do next, what it was doing wrong, reminding me of every correction I'd been given when I'd performed these steps with Master Carlisle. But it was worth it just to feel the little ping of satisfaction which came with each clear-cut turn and controlled arabesque.

I executed a fast circle of jumps around Jacob. My breathing was laboured, but I ignored it. It was like this morning in that final combination, except this time I knew I would get it.

And then Jacob offered his hand again and I danced and turned around that. I didn't need his hand for balance, though. Oh, my dancing would never be perfect but consistent and controlled? More so than Leah or Adela and certainly soon it would be better than Tanya.

We were reaching the final part, though it was the hardest.

There two catches – identical, but from opposite sides. So far no one in class had executed one and still looked like they were dancing.

Jacob stood on one corner of the studio, I in the other.

_Time, _I thought, and let myself breathe. Jacob seemed to do the same, his chest rising with mine, his arms open. He looked at me with the same look he always used when I was about to perform a hard move. _Focus, Bella, focus completely. _Confidently, I lifted my chin, let my arms float up from my sides, and set off, gaining speed as I ran toward him. His hands were close. At the last second, I turned around and lifted backward off the ground into Jacob's waiting hands. It had been as close to perfect as we were going to get.

I felt Jacob's breath on my back as he turned me, and for once I felt empowered. It was him and me together, just like that kiss. Both of us. Equal. He wasn't my teacher; we were partners. Because I was good enough to dance with him.

_I am good enough, _I reiterated. _I can do anything._

As we gently lowered back down and went to opposite corners again, I felt that exultation push at my body, wanting me to run into his arms again and stare into his eyes and...

_No, _I thought. I couldn't do that. I had to keep collected. I shut off the bout of happiness, focussed myself back on the jump I was about to perform and took a deep breath.

Quickly, I was up high again, and then he easily propped me up onto his shoulder. My leg stretched out in front of me with perfect control.

Because we had cut the piece, this was our final move. Before Jacob brought me down, I indulged in three tiny thoughts. That I was the one dancing. I was the one up here. I was the one who could do this.

Gently, Jacob brought me down to the floor again. We stepped forward together, hand in hand, and turned in.

The piano ended just before the kiss.

Jacob dropped his hand, his eyes finally giving up his focus. He grinned at me. I smiled back, both of us breathing hard.

"Hell," we heard Gerry mutter. I turned. The Royals were all staring open mouthed at me. I felt a thrill run through me – I had done it! I had shown them how I really danced!

"She really is Edward Masen's partner," Danny murmured as they all looked me up and down.

"No," Jacob said, putting a hand on my waist. "She's my partner."

A thrill ran through me. Jacob nodded to me, telling me he meant it.

I looked at Leah. But she was silent. She just looked dolefully ahead...I didn't understand. Wasn't she going to fight? Say something? Insult me?

But no, she just stood there.

Hesitantly, I looked back to Jacob, but he didn't seem to have noticed her.

"But how are we going to get you back into this class?" said Gerry. Suddenly there was a 'we'...

Mister York stepped forward from the piano, "I will put in a word with Victoria." He folded his arms, a smile on his face, "It seems you have been holding back from us, Bella Swan."

I nodded, "I'm sorry, I was just working through a few things." I looked at my class, "But now I'm back."

"And you have a month's Pas de Deux to catch up on," Jacob said. "We need to get going."

With shaking heads, everyone got back in their usual positions.

Bridget patted me on the shoulder, "He's a slave driver. You'll learn that pretty quickly."

I grinned. _Don't I know it already..._

"You are absolutely insane," Jacob muttered in my ear as we headed to the back of the studio. "You know that, right?"

I turned round to grin at him, "You told me to take initiative."

"That could've gone badly," he said, though not angrily.

"But it didn't," I chimed in reply. "It went _very _well."

Jacob raised his eyebrow, "There's always something to work on."

"I know," I said dismissively. _"'You will never achieve perfection, but you will spend your whole life trying.' _And everything. There's a lot to fix."

He smiled once more, "Three weeks to get it all done before our competition arrives."

I looked at him, but it was the image of Edward wrapped around Tanya that I spoke to, "Easy."

* * *

><p>Heh...if only it were so, dear Bella.<p>

I've had a whole load of requests for EPOVs over the past...a lot of chapters...and alas, I still must say that I can't really write them - firstly, I don't have enough time at the moment and secondly, though they are really attractive (particularly when they involve Edward in tights), changing POVs can often really damage a story.

Maybe after Pas de Trois...but who knows :D

**Anyway, please let me know what you think of the goings on and just what your opinion is on Monsieur Black and the new Bella Swan...hmmm...**

**Thanks so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed!**


	17. Chapter 17

Hello!

So good to be back!

The past three weeks have been a factual blur of electron configurations and genetic variation, Shakespeare's feministic tendencies and French conjugations, angles and chord recognition.

Painful.

But yay! With exams finally over, I will finally have two months of writing time!

**Thanks so much to all who have reviewed Chapter 16 and all those who wished me luck in my exams! I hope yours went well if you've had them!**

**You guys are awesome - thanks for sticking with me through it all!**

****This chapter is unfortunately only half of what was planned but I promised you the 30th!

So expect the other half within the next few days!

**Please review!**

**And enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Far Over the Misty Mountains Cold - Howard Shore (The Hobbit. Peter Jackson. Howard Shore. NZ film. Watched whole premier... :D Need I say more?)<em>

_Classical Symphony - Prokofiev (Also the composer of Romeo and Juliet, of course!)_

* * *

><p>The room spun. And spun, and spun, and spun, and spun.<p>

"I'm gonna lose my spotting soon," I breathed, trying to make sure my eyes kept returning to a little mark on one of the mirrors so I didn't get dizzy.

"Don't," Jacob said from behind me, his hands giving my waist another twist. "Keep your focus."

The sky outside had turned dark long ago, and now the city lights blurred as I spun past. My toes burned, my muscles ached and my hair had frizzed out of its bun.

"Jesus," I muttered as a piece swung across my vision. I came down from my pointe. The room kept spinning. I reached back and grabbed Jacob's arm for balance.

He laughed and patted me on the shoulder, "Better, Swan."

I took a deep breath and let go, the room coming to a standstill once more. "It's in the context that it mucks up," I said, turning toward him. "Going from passé to the arabesque smoothly. Without the break in the middle."

Jacob nodded, wiping the sweat from his forehead. We'd been at this for hours. Sundays offered no breaks – and by breaks, I meant walking between classes. Everything else was just dancing, nonstop. It had been two weeks since we'd become partners, and since then every after-dinner lesson had been rehearsal for the Pas de Deux. I hadn't been away from the block at all – since partnering replaced one of my own practises, Jacob went and got coffee and food while I rehearsed my solo. I'd chug it all down in the three minutes it took to get from our studio to Vicky's.

She hadn't exactly been pleased when I'd turned up in a scarlet halter neck leotard and told her she was going to give me another chance. She'd been even less pleased when the other Royals stood beside me and told her she really did have to.

And after I'd danced the combo I'd had my breakdown in without any noticeable flaws – only Jacob and I knew that there were plenty – she had been the most displeased anyone, apparently, had seen her in a long time. Because there was no way she could refuse me entrance. I had danced better than Amanda and Danny. Way better.

And so I had officially become a Royal, in every way.

No one treated me like I was from _Force _anymore. I was Jacob's partner now – not Edward Masen's. I had hardly thought about him in the past fortnight. I didn't want to question why. But maybe that was it; I didn't _let_ myself think of him. I didn't want to lose what I was building at Aro's. Too much was going right to be marred by Edward again. Thinking about him had ruined so much in my first month here and now of all times was the worst to be distracted by memories.

Every day I was improving, slowly proving myself to be a better dancer than the other girls. Jacob's teaching couldn't be paralleled. His technique...it was impenetrable. Last Tuesday, I had finally beaten Leah in her fouettes – her strongest move. Of course, it wasn't as if all the judging was based on just one move, but it was the last straw for her. Gerry had made some comment and she had stormed out the door in a matter of seconds. That had ended any chance of her being considered for Juliet's audition.

Adela was my last challenge. With Jacob as my partner, I knew Pas de Deux would be fine. It was in my solo that I had to show her up. I had stayed alone in the studio on Thursday night, rehearsing just five steps for over three hours, not that I had noticed the time. I was so focussed that it hardly existed, until a caretaker walked in with the keys at quarter to midnight, stared at my quivering muscles and flushed face, and told me to clear out.

I woke up so tired on Friday morning, but after Jacob thrust a double-shot espresso in my hands, I aced those five steps and surpassed Adela.

Tomorrow, Jacob and I would be announced as Aro's Romeo and Juliet auditionees. And unless one of us toppled off a cliff sometime between now and the end of repertoire, it was guaranteed.

"Take it from the lift again," Jacob said as I shoved a couple of bobby pins into my hair.

"Right," I replied and got into to position again, his hands on my waist and thigh.

I had learnt that Jacob was right; Pas de Deux wasn't such a big deal. I was already used to his hands on me from our normal lessons and partnering wasn't really any different...except for a few moments in the choreography when it was more like acting than dance.

There was a part halfway through the Balcony Scene when Romeo performs a complex lift, effectively suspending Juliet upside down for a few beats, and then he swings her back up into his arms. But then she wraps her arms around his neck and there are no steps for several counts – they just stay there, holding each other, as if they're about to kiss...

Jacob pulled me up into the lift now, pushing my body behind his, upside down. I braced my hands on the back of his leg.

"Point your toes," he instructed, his voice only a little strained as he looked in the mirror at us.

"Got it," I said, arching my feet.

His hand slipped between my knees and in one fluid movement, he was cradling me in his arms.

For the first time this evening, my focus waned and I looked at Jacob. His eyes were on the mirror, fixing his legs or something. I felt my heart thud. My arms encircled his neck, my face so close to his. My lips...

Eventually, the counts came to an end and he slowly put me back down. I was meant to tiptoe away now, go into an arabesque, promenade...

_Screw it, _I thought and just as Jacob glanced at me to ask why I wasn't moving, I pressed my lips to his.

I felt his mouth smirk against mine, "What are you doing?"

"Not focussing," I murmured, kissing him leisurely, threading my fingers into his hair. I had no idea where my boldness had come from, but...it was nice.

He chuckled and snaked his arms around my waist. But then he simply gave me a chaste kiss on the lips and let go, grinning, "From the pirouette, then."

His words went off sharply in my ears, and I recoiled, my face flushing with embarrassment. _What the Hell was I thinking?_

Pushing away my stupid feelings, I wiped the sweat from my neck and we kept going.

\*\*/*/

It was drizzling as we walked back to the house. I inhaled the cold, fresh air, letting it cool my hot cheeks – my heart rate was still up from our last run through. My endurance had improved since _Force –_ I could get through the whole pas de deux now in one go, without stopping. But I was still so tired, and something was pressing irritatingly on my mind.

"Jacob," I began as we rounded the block. "What...are we, exactly?"

He raised his eyebrow, his eyes glimmering cheekily, "Human, last I checked."

I rolled my eyes, "No. I mean, like, _us."_

Jacob frowned, pushing his hands into his pockets, "You're overthinking, Bella."

"I know," I said awkwardly. "It's just...rehearsal and that other time in the studio...we never said anything..." I trailed off, looking at his bland expression. "It's Leah, isn't it?" I asked quietly. Of course – I had totally forgotten that it wasn't all about me. They had a relationship, too. _And it's always been me who's kissed him, _I thought. Maybe he was just being polite by kissing me back, or trying not to hurt my feelings. Maybe he thought I was still delicate. "I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I just thought that you two weren't, you know, but – "

"Bella," he said, stopping as we reached the gate. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye. "We are so close to getting these roles. We've got a week to get everything right and we have got to focus."

I dug my nails into my palm. _Will I ever freaking learn?_

"I know," I muttered. "Sorry."

Jacob grinned and opened the garden gate. "You're too good to get distracted, Swan."

\*\*/*/

"My calves are killing me," I muttered to Bridget as we all stretched at the barre before Repertoire. "_Everything's _killing me."

"Go get a massage," she suggested. "He's on the ground floor. It's free and all."

"He's hot, too," Danny said perkily, stuffing her pointe shoes with lamb's wool. "How can you resist?"

"I don't have time," I said with a moan as I changed position. "Fully booked until _Force _and the USB arrive."

"You excited to see your friends?" Paul asked.

I rolled my eyes at him, making sure there was enough derision in my voice, "Sure."

The truth was that I had no idea how to feel about everyone coming here. I knew that they would be a huge distraction. And auditions were on the very first morning; I wouldn't be used to them being here, in my space. My school.

"Excited to _beat _them is more like it," Jacob said with a grin as he dumped his bag next to mine and took off his jacket.

"Good of you to turn up," I teased. Despite my attendance being mandatory, Jacob didn't turn up to half our classes – he preferred to rehearse alone, particularly now that we were so close to the auditions.

"Couldn't miss the nail-biter announcement, could I?"

Robbie shot Adela an apologetic look. They knew they had no chance.

Adela shrugged, "Tanya Denali would have beaten me anyway. And I don't want to wind up as understudy."

"Understudy?" I repeated, pausing as I tied up my pointes.

She nodded, "Three Juliets and three Romeos auditioning. The best of each will get the parts. The worst of each will almost certainly be put in the corps. And the second bests will be understudies."

I frowned, "But...what does an understudy do?"

From further down the barre, Leah snorted, "Do you know _anything _about the stage?"

"Understudies learn the parts," Robbie said helpfully. "They dance behind the leads in rehearsal and stuff..."

"But they never dance on stage," Leah continued. "They sit in the audience each night and clap for their betters."

"And that was you last year, J!" Gerry said, clapping him on the back.

But Jacob had suddenly switched out of any playful mood. His face darkened and he said nothing, just put his leg up into a stretch.

"Which ballet was it?" I asked curiously. Some leads just didn't suit specific dancers – even amazing ones like Jacob.

"_La Bayadère," _said Robbie.

"Who got lead?" I asked, though I already suspected his answer.

"Who d'you think?" he said with a smile. "Masen and Denali. But the year before that, in _Giselle, _Jake was lead 'til – "

"That doesn't matter," Jacob said abruptly, taking his leg off the barre and leaning against it instead. "What matters is that Masen doesn't have a chance this year."

I nodded without hesitation, "He doesn't."

Jacob gave me his signature smirk and brushed his thumb against my cheek, "Not with you here."

_You are so unfair! _I thought as his touch pleasantly burned my skin. _How can you tell me not to lose focus and then do something like this?_

I gave him the evils and he just smirked again and sunk down into plié.

I felt eyes on me, and looked up to see Leah glaring at me. Her dark eyes held mine for only a second before I looked away. Jacob hadn't answered my question last night, about him and Leah. But judging from that look, I guessed that they probably weren't as cosy as they had been a month ago. And I couldn't feel sorry for her – Gerry had said they weren't in any kind of committed relationship. She should have known better than to think someone like Jacob would have stuck with her.

_Not that he's moved onto you, _I told myself. _I must not over think. I have to focus._

"Afternoon, everyone," Caius – the Royals didn't call him Mister Volturi – said, striding in in his usual sharp black suit. We all stopped our stretches to listen to the announcement. Jacob stood next to me, leaning back against the barre with that air of ease about him which I couldn't quite muster. I knew it was going to be us, but still.

"I would first just like to congratulate you all on your hard work these past two months. All of us," he gestured back to Mrs Tia, Mister York and Vicky who were standing behind him, "agree that you have improved a great deal and that any of you could easily play any of the available roles. However, the unfortunate reality is that only one of you can be selected to represent Aro's in the audition of each role. With the quality of the class this year, we expect that those who have been selected will be given the roles." Caius gave an involuntary twitch of his lips, "Your greatest competition is within your classmates. _Force _doesn't have a thing on us this year."

"Hear, hear!" Gerry called.

On my other side, Danny nudged me excitedly. I smiled back more shakily than I'd wanted to.

"Thank you, Gerald," Caius said, but the slight smirk remained on his face. Some traitorous part of me wondered if Master Carlisle was as competitive, and quickly decided that he couldn't be – all Carlisle cared about was bringing out the best dancer in his students. _Yet Jacob's the one I have to thank for that; not Carlisle. And Jacob's a third of Carlisle's age._

I glanced at him now, a smile emerging from my previously nervous face. He returned it with his signature smirk then looked back to the front. _My saviour..._almost literally...

"So," Caius continued, taking a folded piece of paper from his breast pocket. I felt the tension in the room rise. I'd been so tired from rehearsals that I didn't really know who wanted what, but I knew that at least for the girls, things were _very _close. Three female roles for six of us. And one of them was mine. "Benvolio goes to Paul," he began, obviously beginning at the bottom and working his way up. "Friar Laurence will be auditioned for by Damien." I saw disappointment flash across Damien's eyes. It wasn't exactly an inspiring role. "The nurse will be auditioned for by..." Caius blinked, a little apprehension on his face, "By Leah."

Her plucked eyebrows shot up, her eyes wide, just shocked at first. Quickly, though, that look was replaced by anger, "You can't be freaking serious, Caius?"

"Excuse me, Leah," he said pointedly. "But I am very serious."

"That's a character role!" she exclaimed.

Caius nodded, "And you certainly have a lot of that."

"Good _call, _Caius!"Gerry guffawed, clapping his hands. Leah snapped her gaze round to him and he shut up pretty quickly.

"Right," Caius continued. "The two supporting men, Tybalt and Mercutio, will be performed by Gerald and Seth respectively."

"Sweet!" Gerry exclaimed, nudging Seth. Seth flicked him a small smile back, then his eyes returned to the front. I frowned, wondering if anything had happened. Gerry acted almost naturally around me now, but he was always a little hesitant. I didn't get the same teasing everyone else did. Fortunately, I wasn't there often enough for anyone to notice.

"Robbie and Adela will be Lord and Lady Capulet," Caius went on. Robbie and Adela exchanged a defeated smile. My heartbeat spiked. "Bella," Caius looked at me directly for the first time. "You will be auditioning for the lead role of Juliet." He gave an offhanded smile, "Congratulations."

There was applause from my class, the class who, only a few weeks ago, couldn't stand me.

I nodded my thanks and tried to keep the elation from my face. _I'm auditioning for Juliet...I'm almost there! _"Jacob," Caius said. Jacob folded his arms, still calm. "You will be auditioning for Romeo." Robbie began to clap, but Caius held up a hand. "And you will also be auditioning for the Prince of Verona."

Silence.

_What the hell? _I thought. How did that make any sense? The Prince of Verona is the smallest part, short of being in the corps. How could Caius possibly put Jacob forward for that role?

"Excuse me?" Jacob said eventually. He arms were still folded. In fact, nothing gave away his anger except his flaming eyes.

"Alright," Caius said, clapping his hands and acting as if he hadn't just dropped a bombshell on all of us. "Spread out between the studios and begin rehearsing your audition piece." He looked at Jacob and me, "You two are rehearsing with me."

The room burst into excited chatter, everyone glancing nervously at Jacob.

"Let's go," I said, pulling at his locked arms. He didn't look at me – those dark eyes stayed fixed on Caius as he pushed off the barre and followed him out of the room. I hurried along behind him, not sure exactly how he was going to react.

"Caius!" Jacob said as we walked down the corridor. Jacob quickly caught up to him and stepped into his path, stopping him. Jacob gathered his breath, "The Prince? Are you serious?"

Jacob was tall, but so was Caius, and though thinner, our headmaster was not without authority. He gazed back at Jacob evenly, "It's a precaution. I pulled a lot of strings to get you two auditions, Jacob. No one else will get this opportunity."

"Why do you think I _need _it?" Jacob snapped.

"Jacob," Caius put a hand on his shoulder, just like Jacob did to me when I wasn't focussing. "This is your last year at the NFSI. Your last year to make an impression before company auditions."

"And that 'impression'," Jacob said, shrugging the hand off. "Will be made by dancing Romeo – not some tiny character role who no one notices."

"It's better than being an understudy," Caius said tersely.

Jacob recoiled. He looked at Caius with narrowed, hateful eyes, "You don't think I can beat him."

It wasn't a question.

Caius hesitated. His gaze flickered to me for a split second, then back to Jacob, "I don't think it can be assured, no."

I felt my cheeks go red. This was my fault; with me as his partner, he wouldn't be able to match Edward in the pas de deux. Not when Tanya was dancing with him.

"You're wrong," Jacob said. He looked back at me, gesturing me forward. Nervously, I let him pull me to his side. His warm body felt reassuring. Jacob looking challengingly at Caius, "Bella is perfect for this."

I felt my heart soar. He sounded so sure...

I slipped my arm round his waist, trying to tell him I believed in him. Maybe he didn't want to be with me, but we had to support each other. Particularly since it sounded like Edward and Tanya were supposedly going to be hard competition.

Caius eyed me suspiciously, then looked back to Jacob, "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

Jacob nodded.

"You will still do the Prince audition, Jacob," Caius said shortly, and turned, "Now we need to rehearse."

He still didn't believe we could do it. I could've screamed at him...

"Actually, Caius," Jacob said coldly, "We'd prefer to work alone."

Caius turned back, "Are you sure about that, Jacob?"

"Yes," he replied, then pulled me past Caius and into a studio.

"Jacob," I said as the door swung shut behind us. He'd let go of my hand and was facing away from me, running a hand through his hair. _Like Edward used to do, _I thought unhelpfully. I touched his shoulder lightly but he didn't turn around. "You don't have to worry about this stupid Prince thing. You're going to get Romeo."

"I know," he muttered. "It's just the idea of that bastard breathing down my neck. And the idea that my own fucking headmaster doesn't trust me to beat him."

"He only believes that because of me," I said. "But I'm not going to be the one to stop you getting Romeo, Jacob. I promise, I'll be better than Tanya."

He finally turned and gazed at me, his eyes still cold, "How?"

I took a deep breath, "I'll do just what I did with Leah and Adela and all the other girls. Find videos of her, find her flaws." I shrugged, "One week is more than enough time."

Jacob just stared at me blankly for a moment, then cocked his head to the side, "You're a changed woman, Swan."

I smiled, "Maybe. _But, _Mr Black," I said teasingly. "You called me 'perfect' and yet you are constantly telling me that I will never achieve perfection but I'll spend my whole life trying." I folded my arms and raised my eyebrows at him, "Hmmm?"

His signature smirk was back upon his face, "Well," he said, gently brushing a finger down my cheek. His eyes followed it as it traced my lips, "You are perfect for some things, Bella Swan."

I shivered at his touch. _What are you doing? _I wanted to ask. But abruptly he dropped his hand, "We should start rehearsing."

I stood there gaping for a moment as he got into position. _This is _very _unfair, _I decided.

"Come on, Swan," he cajoled, "Isn't there a Denali to take down now?"

That idea finally brought me away from Jacob's touch. Tanya was worth the effort. She needed to be put in her place.

And if Tanya was put in her place, then Edward would be too.

And Jacob and I needed that. More than anything.

* * *

><p>Okay! So I promise the second half of my post-exam chapter in the next few days (got to serve up a Christmas feast and sit through a prize giving and end of year rehearsals first...but that won't take too long...)<p>

Please let me know your thoughts on all of Bella's goings on...changed woman...hmmm?

**Thanks for reading!**


	18. Chapter 18

Hello!

Two weeks and two days - I've been counting - since the last update!

I'm really sorry but the end of the school year was upon me with a feast to host (who knew - I can kind of cook?!) and one more performance and one more assembly and so on. The last exam is, sadly, not the last trial of the year.

And then I went to the West Coast (c'est magnifique!) and discovered that trying to type about pirouettes whilst winding up the Haast Pass in the back of a camper van is not not a good idea.

And then I spent over twenty four hours sitting on a plane (two planes, really), crossing the World to this glorious country of ENGLAND!

Yay! Mulled wine and BBC and National Trust houses and freezing cold temperatures and awesome accents for all!

**So sorry this all took two weeks (arg) but thank you so much to everyone who reviewed!**

**It was the best thing after a month of study guides and cramming to read all your opinions and comments and, most interestingly, your allegiances. Team Jacob seems to be overtaking...hmmm...**

**Thanks!**

Okay! On with the show!

**Please review!**

**And, most importantly, enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>For Those Who Wait - Fireflight (it's getting me up at 5:30 each morning to write this...:D)<em>

* * *

><p>'<em>Tanya Denali, sister of ballet stars Irina and Kate Denali, has recently admitted in an interview with <em>Pointe Magazine _that her career took a turn for the worst last year after a fall out with another dancer, leading to issues with her long-time partner, Edward Masen; "There was a short period of time when I guess Eddie and I went through what many great artists go through where we questioned our dancing and whether we were truly good enough to make it. Eddie and I went through a rough patch when we both tried new partners but we both found that it just wasn't the same without each other." _

_Denali took time out of the prestigious _Force de la Beauté _academy to travel and network but very soon returned to reclaim her position. Both Denali and Masen travel to Seattle soon for the National Ballet Federation's production of _Romeo and Juliet. _Whilst there is competition from opposing academies for the lead roles, Denali is remaining calm, "I have never been dancing better than right now and I have absolute confidence in my abilities to win the role of Juliet. From what I've seen, the competition will not be a problem."'_

I slammed my laptop screen down, too disgusted to keep reading. Edward's 'rough patch' had been me. And I sincerely doubted Tanya had been 'questioning her dancing' – unfortunately for her, Tanya would never think there was anyone better at dancing than herself. There was only one part of the article which I could really believe; that Edward had found that it just wasn't the same without Tanya. Or, rather, that he had realized I wasn't good enough for him. That made perfect sense – that was why he had called her back. And kissed her. And _slept_ with her.

"_It's me who's lying in his bed right now, sweetie, not you."_

"Bitch," I muttered just as Bridget walked into our room.

"Aw shucks, Izzy," she said with a grin, throwing her toilet bag on her desk.

"Sorry," I said ruefully, leaning back on my chair, "I'm so tired. Once the next few weeks are over, I am going to be sleeping in 'til three each day."

"If you last that long," she pointed out, grabbing her sewing kit and shoe bag. "I thought you were a ghost before this week, but now? Have you stopped dancing for more than, like, ten minutes?"

"I always get five hours sleep," I said pathetically. "Well, most nights..."

She raised a ginger eyebrow, "You are a paradigm for health, aren't you?" I groaned, but she simply laughed and shrugged, "Whatever works – maybe we should all starve ourselves of sleep; it seems to be making you into the next Lopatkina."

I grinned. No matter how tired or frustrated I got, Bridget was right; it was working. From watching Tanya's videos, I knew I could give her a run for her money if I kept the focus I had at the moment. Jacob and I were both pleased with how I was shaping up this close to the audition. In less than twenty four hours I would be on the stage in front of the casting panel.

This was the first night in months that I was in the house at a sensible time – Jacob had said that we should prepare mentally tonight before our last rehearsal tomorrow morning. It was weird having a break; every spare minute and every class aside from Modern was now either a pas de deux or solo rehearsal, and of course we simply skipped modern for private rehearsal.

My cheeks burned, though, remembering my run in with Mark the other day. He'd caught me in the corridor after dinner, heading to my usual rehearsal with Jacob and had ominously told me he'd been wanting to talk to me.

"I know you're really intent on _Romeo and Juliet," _he'd said carefully, "But I've seen you – you've been working flat out ever since you became Jacob Black's partner." He brushed his hair back, betraying how different he was to my other teachers. "You need a break at some point, Bella. I mean, if you're so intent on skipping my classes" – I winced; he made it sound so harsh – "Then at least use the time to rest. Jacob's an amazing dancer and a seriously driven guy, but..." he fiddled with his earring, "Well, we can't all be like him."

Then and in the present, the shame left me, replaced by anger. I'd snapped, "Well, thanks for your support. Makes sense that you're related to Carlisle – no one at _Force _had much faith in me either." And with that, I had walked away and spent the first five minutes of rehearsal fuming to Jacob.

Shaking my head out of it, I stood up from my chair and grabbed my bag.

"Where are you going?" Bridget asked, pushing a needle through the seam of her pointe shoe.

"Got some turns to fix," I said. "Everything's got to be near perfect before tomorrow."

"_Near _perfect?" Bridget repeated.

"_'You will never achieve perfection, but you will spend your whole life trying!'" _I chimed and swung out the door, "See you later!"

"In the morning!" she called back. "Seriously doubt you'll be back before lights out."

I stuck my head into the living room on the way out, where pretty much everyone was sprawled, as usual, over the couches and beanbags, stretching and talking about tomorrow's auditions. It was late, but it seemed like there were too many nerves for sleep. I saw Gerry murmuring something to Seth, who pulled back, frowning. "Yeah, sure, in the morning. Is everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah," Gerry said awkwardly, "Just want to talk to you before everything and...um..." He spotted me, finding his salvation, "What's up Bella?"

I knew he must have seriously been feeling awkward – Gerry made a point of avoiding me whenever he could.

"Just looking for Romeo," I said, and quickly finding him sitting in the window seat, his Mac book propped on his knees.

"Ah, how good that sounds," he said, grinning at me.

_There is something seriously unfair about those lips, _I thought, unable to not grin back.

"Romeo might be here," Leah's malicious voice cut through. She was lounging on a bean bag, flicking a lighter over her shoe ribbons. "But everyone knows that Juliet's packing her bags in Oregon right now, and she's not a clingy brunette."

"Like you?" I asked politely.

Gerry snorted, "You walked into that one, L."

"Shut up," she snapped, dropping her pointe shoe and standing up, stalking toward me and glaring at me with those poisonous eyes, "I'm not the leech who walked in here at the last minute, screwed up this whole class and made it that much harder for Jacob to get the role he needs."

I stepped up to face her. We were so close, I could see where her thick black eyeliner had smudged. "What?" I said softly, "You think that you'd do a better job, _Nurse? _At least I have faith in Jacob, which you clearly don't."

"Faith?" Leah scoffed, then leaned in and hissed, "You seriously think Jacob needs faith from anyone else but himself? He doesn't _need _you."

"No, Leah," I said. "He doesn't need _you _anymore, and you're the leech who's still hanging on even though you know he's moved on." I looked her up and down, "Not that there was much to move on from."

"Bitch," she spat, and stormed out and up the stairs.

I looked nervously to my classmates. We were united against outsiders, but Leah versus me? That was a whole different issue.

"She's always been a drama queen," Robbie shrugged. Everyone seemed to follow the sentiment and said nothing.

Danny clapped her hands, jumping up in her energetic way, "Who's for cocoa?"

As the tally was taken, I climbed over my friends to Jacob, who was still looking at his screen like nothing had happened.

"Have you seen this pas de deux of them?" he asked me, still watching. "Some kind of audition video – the most recent one I've found."

"Probably," I muttered. The truth was that I hadn't looked at a single pas de deux of them. I just...couldn't. Tanya? God knows I'd watched a thousand videos of her prancing across the stage in expensive costumes which were far more inspiring than her actual dancing, working out her weak points, rehearsing her strong points.

I felt like I had stretched my legs an extra inch or two, trying to achieve her extensions this past week. And I'd watched the few videos there were of Tanya with other partners – one with another _Force _dancer and a couple more with professionals whom I assumed her sisters had convinced to dance with her. But I had avoided the many videos of her and Edward. _'Masen and Denali at Covent Garden'. 'Masen and Denali OMG Ballet'. 'MOST ROMANTIC DUET EVER! M and D!'._

Eventually, I'd subtracted Edward's name from my searches. I reasoned that I didn't need to see videos of them together – I knew how they danced together, and I knew we could beat them. But really, deep down, it was that I just wasn't ready to see him dancing with her. Or with anyone but me. _Yet, _I told myself. Somehow I would be okay tomorrow...

"I think it's _Moonlight Sonata," _he said. "Pretty crap choreography, though. Too many fouettes."

"I know," I said without thinking.

He gave me a look.

"I saw them rehearse it when I was at _Force," _I told him. The memory wasn't one I wanted to be brought to the surface again. Instead of thinking about my own dancing, I'd been spying on Edward and Tanya, trying to work out whether Edward had any feelings toward Tanya. _I should've just checked his bedroom a few hours later._

"So?" Jacob said expectantly, nodding at the screen. "What was their rehearsal technique? How fast were they sorting out these lifts?"

"I don't know," I said, then quickly changed the subject. "I'm heading back to the studio for those Act One turns. You want to come?"

He shook his head, eyes still fixed on the screen, "I'm sure you'll be fine." He flicked me a quick smirk. "I'm enjoying this ego boost."

I smiled, "You don't need it, Jacob. You're going to beat him."

He looked up at me with those dark brown eyes and for a moment all I wanted was to kiss him, push his laptop away and forget about everything but us, even my classmates, who thought our relationship was strictly business.

But instead I pushed my bag up my shoulder and climbed back over my classmates.

"Bye Bella!" someone called.

"See you!" I replied and opened the front door. I halted. Angela stood on the doorstep, looking at me expectantly.

"Hi Bella," she said. When I didn't move, she raised an eyebrow, "Can I come in?"

"Um," I said. "I was just going out..."

"This'll only take a few minutes," she said.

Cautiously, I stepped back and let her into the hallway, shutting the door behind us. I felt nervous. And I didn't want to admit why.

"I just wanted to check that you hadn't died," Angela said simply, letting the words hang between us for a moment before saying abruptly, "I mean, since you haven't replied to any of my emails in over a month."

"My computer isn't working," I said shortly, not able to look at her.

But for once, Angela wasn't in her forgiving mood. I had never seen her pissed before, but it scared me almost as much as Master Carlisle's wrath had. "Really, Bella?" she said quietly. "Because then a few days ago I got a call from Alice, asking me if you were okay because every time she called here, they said you weren't in."

"I usually wasn't," I said uncomfortably. "I mean, rehearsals have just been crazy and – "

"But what about the times you _were_ in?" she asked. When I just looked away, she sighed impatiently, "Bella, tell me they haven't been telling you about these calls. Tell me your computer really did break. Tell me," she said vehemently, "That you haven't just been ignoring us."

I folded my arms tightly over my chest, tugging my sleeves over my knuckles, as if somehow it would protect me. "I got your emails," I said quietly. "And I knew Alice was calling." It had been one or two each week at first, but by the time this final week had rolled around, I was being told constantly that my '_Force _friend' was taking up the phone line. "It's not that I don't want to talk to you guys," I said pathetically. "It's just that I've been so busy preparing for this audition tomorrow. I mean, every second counts. And I'm usually at the studio until seriously late and when I get back there's only time to just check my emails for anything vital and then I have to sleep."

"So your friends aren't even slightly important to you anymore?" she said, her voice wavering. I noticed her hand clutching her bag tightly, her knuckles white. "We don't matter?"

"It's not like that," I whispered, but even then I knew that it wasn't wholly true. "I've just had to prioritize."

"Bella," Angela said, "Dance might be your life's passion, but it can't be your life." She waved a hand at me, "You can't just dance twenty-four seven and ignore everything and everyone else. You promised you'd help out at my studio when I was at the doctor's. I was _relying _on you." Her voice cracked.

"Angela," I said desperately, reaching out, but she flinched away. "Angela...it's not just about dancing now. It's about Edward, too. Jacob and I are so close to beating him. I _need _to beat him."

She looked at me, "Why, Bella? Why do you need to beat Edward?"

"Because he cheated on me," I said brokenly. "Because he didn't believe in me. He had so little faith in me that he called Tanya back in so he'd have a chance of beating Jacob. He made me miserable, Ange." I took a deep breath, "But now I'm okay again because of Jacob. He's shown me that I can dance at a level I never even knew was possible. One which Edward never believed I could reach. Jacob believes in me."

"And you think Edward didn't?" Angela asked. "You don't think that the guy who crosses the width of the United States and ditches an audition with the US Ballet to dance with you has any faith in you?"

"He brought Tanya back to replace me," I argued. "And the audition pas de deux was so bad with Edward yet with Jacob, I have a serious chance of getting Juliet. I've never danced so well."

"So you accredit this Jacob guy with everything, even though it was Edward who got you through those very first rehearsals?"

I nodded without hesitation, "Those first rehearsals were hell, Angela." I remembered the snapping and the tension and Edward's constant frustration. "So yeah, I accredit Jacob with everything. I was hardly a dancer before he helped me. I was pathetic. I just moped around, doing nothing to help myself."

"Of course you moped! Of course you were upset! That's what you're meant to feel when you have to leave someone you care about." She shook her head, "Bella...you have got to drop this vendetta against Edward. He's an amazing person. He always stood up for you, always took care of you. Don't you remember," she stepped forward helplessly, "when he came and visited me in hospital? When he scared the crap out of Mike after he dropped you? When he made an example of Lauren? Carried you through that whole pas de deux at the Review?"

"Have you not heard a single thing I've been saying? Maybe he did some nice stuff once, but since then he's done nothing but hurt me..." her expression remained unchanged. I laughed almost hysterically, not being able to believe it, "So you're taking his side?"

"I'm not on anyone's side, Bella," she said, then sighed, shaking her head, "But fine, if that's how you want to play it. I'm on Edward's side, not yours."

We stared at each other, the line between us now clearly drawn. I couldn't comprehend it...

"Bella," I turned around to see my classmates standing in the doorway, Danny at the front. They looked territorially at Angela. "Is everything okay?"

"No," she answered for me. "No it's not okay. You've made her go stupid. Where is this Jesus of a dancer, then?" she looked at them challengingly.

Appearing at the back of the group, who parted for him, Jacob came to stand next to me, calm and controlled. He wrapped an arm around my waist, making me feel far more confident. "You called?" he said politely.

But Angela was just looking at his arm around me. Her eyes flicked to mine, desperate questions in them. But I just looked back unapologetically.

Eventually she spoke, looking from me, to Jacob, to my class. "You know why Bella is so good at that pas de deux?" her voice was soft, but tense. "Why she's good at pas de deux or any kind of ballet at all?"

She gazed at my classmates, "It's because she went to _Force_ and she learnt from the best and she danced with Edward Masen, who is one of the most honourable people I know. The reason she dances that dance so well is because she learnt it with Edward, and she loved him." I stood stock still. Angela paused, looking at me, as if searching for something. "And she still loves him," she said quietly, her eyes never leaving mine. "Even if she won't admit it."

I couldn't move. Moments passed in silence. Eventually, she took a square envelope from her purse and put it into my frozen hand. "I thought I'd better give this to you before you leave on tour." She looked at Jacob and my class behind him, "It's her birthday in a couple of weeks." She met Jacob's gaze without any fear, "But you probably wouldn't know that, would you?"

"Don't come near Bella again," Jacob replied softly, menacingly.

Angela looked to me for any kind of reply, but I was still holding the envelope where she'd put it. "Good luck, Bella," she said. "You're going to need it if you keep on losing your friends." Angela opened the door, letting in the cold night air. She hesitated on the threshold, turning back around to look at me, "By the way," she said stiffly. "If you'd read one of those emails, you would know that Ben broke up with me." I saw the tiniest quiver in her lip, "To be with Lauren."

Before I could do anything, she was gone, the door slamming behind her.

"Oh my God," I breathed, leaning heavily against Jacob, who stood strong against it all. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me tightly into his chest.

"Don't worry about her," he murmured. "Just keep focussed."

* * *

><p>I know this is a short chapter - once again, I found myself dividing.<p>

Next chapter _will_ be up within forty eight hours!

Again, I'm really sorry for the wait but fortunately I won't have twelve hour jet lag for the next five weeks - just the freezing English countryside, which gives me a great excuse to stay in bed (sadly, the best heating here is the electric blanket...) and write!

**Please flick me a review and let me know what you think of Angela, Jacob, Bella and the impending return of you-know-who!**

**Thanks for reading - happy eight days to Christmas!**


	19. Chapter 19

36 hours...sweet!

Well hello there!

So happy to be getting this out to you!

**Wow...crazy, amazing reviews! Thank you so much. Short or long, happy or sad, if you sent me a comment, thank you so much!**

**They were coming in as I was writing and they kept me going! You're amazing! :D**

****Okay, this is a _long _chapter but I refused to divide again - we need to get to the big one, you know?

**So please review!**

**And enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Epic Music Mix of Majesty VI - compiled by Sindrannaras (epic music...just always fits)<em>**  
><strong>

_O, America - Celtic Woman (I don't know why, either...)_

* * *

><p>Despite his words, I completely forgot about heading back to the studio. Clutching the envelope, I escaped back upstairs, to my room. Bridget was asleep, her red hair strewn across her pink satin pillow. Feeling shaky, I pulled my blanket around my body, curling myself up, as if that could somehow stop the pain and the guilt Angela had brought me. I should have just replied to those emails. I should have just taken two minutes to reply...or at least to read them. Ben had left her for <em>Lauren? <em>How? Why?

Quickly, I snatched my laptop from my desk, quickly shutting down any Tanya Denali articles and instead bringing up the unopened emails. I brushed through them all, reading about her excitement for her new studio, her first class, the overdramatic mothers, some kind of incident involving a kid running headlong into the mirror. And then there were her emails asking if I could come in and help.

Then came the email saying she'd had to cancel the classes instead. And then the first email asking why I wasn't replying. And then another, and another. Until the one which began with, _'I don't know if you're reading this, but Ben called this morning and told me we had to stop going out.'_

I took a deep breath, clutching the blanket tighter, and read on;

'_He said that he still loved me and everything, but the distance was too hard for him to manage and he needed someone with him. He said he knew I couldn't help my injury, and that he knew that it was completely his fault.'_

I remembered that awful moment, when Madame Wright had decided we were all going to do overheads without teaching us how. Ben had been holding Angela up, and my second year partner, Peter, had been doing the same for me. But Ben hadn't quite got her balanced right, and we had both fallen. I had escaped with just a concussion. Angela was told she could never dance professionally again. It didn't surprise me that Ben had never stopped blaming himself for the fall. I'd always thought he was so kind...but maybe not now.

'_But he said he couldn't be my boyfriend anymore. That we should both just move on. And then I asked him if there was someone else. And he just went silent and I knew it was bad. And then he said that after Tyler had started going out with Selene, Lauren had been really down and then she'd had some kind of family issue and Ben had been helping her through it and he just said, 'We just kind of came together.' _

_I asked him if he had cheated on me and he said that he hadn't, that he was waiting until he could talk to me. But you know Lauren. What am I meant to believe? Is she just playing one of her stupid games with him? I don't want Ben to get hurt – that would be horrible. But he sounded really convinced...but then he's always seen the best in everyone...but it really did sound like he'd been helping her for a long time. Bella, I don't know what to do with myself, and I've got three long Saturday classes tomorrow and all I want to do is hide under my bed and never be seen again. How could I be so stupid as to think this could work? Long distance? And when one of us is at a place like _Force _and I'm here in Seattle, teaching little kids pliés to One Direction. _

_Crap. My uncle's coming and I'm still crying. Please reply – tell me what I should do!_

_Angela_

I looked at the date. Three weeks ago. I knew what I would have told her; to go have a long bubble bath and not worry – I would take care of her classes for the weekend and even do some digging if she needed it. I would've called Eliza and found out what was going on. At the very least I would've visited her and made sure she was okay. But I hadn't bothered to read this. I hadn't bothered to look until it was too late.

But now it really was too late. She was on Edward's side. There was nothing left to be done.

Feeling sick, I opened the envelope. Inside was a glittering '18' card.

_Happy Birthday, Bella!_

Was all it said on the inside. But something had fallen into my lap – another piece of paper.

I turned it over. It was a photo, a wide shot of a stage. Two rows of dancers, the girls in pale blue tutus, the boys in black tights and sashes, lined its width, holding hands, grinning. And in front of them stood a danseuse in a sparkling blue and gold tutu with her tall, confident cavalier, who held her hand and ushered her forward for the final bow. They were smiling at each other.

I traced the line of my old tutu, remembering the sound of the audience. The roaring applause. The shouts, the whistles. My happiness. I remembered clutching Edward's hand and my whole body just brimming with that happiness.

My bedroom door was suddenly thrown open. "See!" Leah snapped, snatching the photo away from me. "I told you so but no one listened!"

The others peeked in through the door. Leah shoved the photo in their faces, "Cute, huh?"

"That was last year, Leah," Damien said, trying to reason.

"Then why is she staring at it now?" she asked. "Right after that crazy girl comes in and tells us she's still in love with Edward Masen?"

"What is going on?" Bridget grumbled, waking up to see her class spilling into the room.

"Bella isn't one of us," Leah replied. Her dark eyes turned on me, "She's just a fake."

"God," I muttered, pushing my blanket off and standing up. "There's no need to be so melodramatic."

I took the photo from her fingers and turned to my class, "If you'd all like to just stop jumping to conclusions. This is ridiculous! Damien is right – this photo was taken a year ago, before I knew half the things I know now about _Force. _I'm looking at it because it is interesting to me that I would ever dance with such a..." I looked at Edward's grinning, triumphant face. "Such a backstabbing liar."

They stared at me. I guess they hadn't heard such venom in my voice before, but it was very real.

"You sound like you really have it in for him," Seth said quietly.

I nodded.

"Why?" Danny asked, plopping down on my bed like it was story time.

"Do tell," Leah purred, stretching out on her own bed. The others all spread themselves out the way they always did. Bridget murmured in protest as Adela settled on Robbie's lap at the end of her mattress and Seth leant against the frame. Lastly, Jacob appeared in the doorway – like in his dancing, he always seemed to have impeccable timing. He leaned against the frame and folded his arms, "Story time, is it?"

"It has the 'E' word in it," I warned, sitting myself on the end of my desk.

His eyes narrowed, his lips smirking, "Does it end with the 'J' word?"

"It might," I returned with a smile.

"I'm gonna be saying the 'F' word if you don't hurry up!" Leah snapped.

I rolled my eyes and began. I told them anything and everything I thought would convince them that I wasn't Edward's anymore. That the idea disgusted me. _He has always been a liar,_ I realized as I recounted my first few weeks at _Force. _In the car park, when he'd told me that he felt nothing when he danced with me – that I was just some inexperienced student. Maybe he'd eventually rectified it, but it was still a lie. A lie which had brought me a lot of pain.

"I was always honest with him, but he was never honest with me," I told my friends, who had sat listening to the whole trial in silence. I shook my head, looking at the photo. "I don't know why I forgave him for everything he put me through."

"Because you were in _love _with him," Leah said from her bed. "Just admit it, would you? And then leave, preferably tonight."

"Leah, be quiet," Jacob ordered.

"I wasn't in love with him," I said, considering it. "I think I was more in awe of him. I was the First Year and he was..."

"Edward Masen," Adela nodded. "We know – he's famous."

I noticed Jacob looking away distastefully and couldn't help but smile a little. "Anyway," I continued, "I guess everything was okay until I returned from my recovery and we actually had to start dancing properly together. And that was when Edward and I began to fall apart..." I went on, telling them everything, including when I walked in on him and Tanya.

"Bastard!" Danny exclaimed, clutching my pillow. "I mean, seriously? Two seconds after you guys broke up? How does that even work?"

"What did you do?" Bridget asked, fully awake now and leaning forward in anticipation.

"Ran away," I admitted sheepishly.

Gerry guffawed, "Bella Swan running away?"

"I know," I said, then locked gazes with Jacob. "It won't happen again."

"So then what?" Danny asked.

"I left that night," I said. "But then, when I was on the bus Tanya called me on Edward's phone...from his bed."

"No way!" Amanda, of all people, exclaimed. "What did she say?"

"Boasted, mostly," I said, not wanting to remember any more of that night. "Anyway, can you see now that there is no way I can possibly love Edward Masen?"

They looked amongst each other and nodded. "We should never have doubted you," said Seth.

I smiled and picked up the photo. _If Angela is proclaiming her side, then I'm proclaiming mine._

I held my hand out to Leah, "Lighter, please."

She glared at me, but pushed the black lighter into my palm.

"I don't need this photo anymore," I said, flicking the lighter into flame. "Because soon," I brought it to the corner of the picture, "There will be a photo of all of _us,_ on a far grander stage," the flame curled and blackened the wings, "Dominating all the soloist positions," my old class disappeared, consumed in the yellow light, "With Jacob and me as principals." The flame finally reached Edward and me. I felt my heartbeat spike and I swallowed, then cast it into the metal bin. "And Edward Masen and Tanya Denali out of any spotlight." I looked away from the two figures being burnt away into nothing, instead focussing on my class. I gave a shy smile, "We can beat them."

"Spoken like a true Royal," Gerry said admiringly.

"We're gonna beat them!" Danny squealed, jumping off my bed and throwing her arms around me. "That good-looking bastard!"

I laughed as Adela joined too, shouting something like 'fils de pute', and then everyone joined into one big hug, the way artists are crazy enough to do. I grinned in the middle of it all, knowing that with these people around me, and with Jacob as my partner, there was no way we could lose.

With Danny's sudden realization that the milk was burning, we dispersed, heading back down to the kitchen. I left last, kicking my bin so that I couldn't see the remains. As I came out the door, I felt an arm wrap around my waist.

_Edward? _I thought with a jolt.

But then I felt Jacob's lips against mine and relaxed, my hands on his chest. "What are you doing?" I whispered as his mouth met mine again. My fingers travelled up the hard muscle to his shoulders, his arms tightened around me.

"You're amazing," he murmured, kissing down my neck, making me shiver in delight.

"I'm confused," I whispered.

He pulled back, breathing hard and staring into my eyes. He stayed like that a moment, then released me, "Sorry," he said abruptly, and quickly crossed the corridor into his own room.

"Jacob – " I said, but the door shut.

I fell back against the wall, touching a hand to my swollen lips, not really sure what to think. _He just..._I smothered a giggle; _was that a lapse in Mister Black's focus?_

\*\*/*/

Four thirty. Monday morning. My eyes flicked open and I was wide awake, staring up at the black ceiling. A nervous fire seemed to burn in me. Today was audition day. Today was the day when we would see whether the pain and stress of the past two months would pay off. Today was the day which could change my career.

And today was the day I would see Edward again.

"Focus," I whispered to myself. I pulled off my covers and slipped out of bed, tiptoeing out to the showers. I didn't linger as I got myself ready – Jacob had told me that routine was important. I had to remember that nothing changed. Just because we were in the theatre, just because we were in front of the casting panel, just because there would be people there who could distract us – it didn't mean that the steps would be any different. It was the same dance.

I pulled on a new pair of white tights and a deep red halter neck leo with a neck line which cut down in an elegant 'v', making my arms and neck seem more extended. I tied the back in a neat double knot, feeling like the Royal I now was. Next, I went back to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, working out how much make up was needed.

I wasn't surprised anymore at my face. There were bags under my eyes and my skin was so pale – almost grey, but I knew that was just the bathroom lights. For once, though, I didn't feel as tired as I looked. My nerves made me feel more awake than I had in a while. Still, something had to be done – Juliet was meant to look youthful and free, not tired and drawn. With excessive concealer, mascara, liner, lip gloss and blush, I finally managed to work some colour into my face. Never had so much been needed before, but then I had never worked so hard before.

Finally, using way too much hairspray, I formed the perfect ballet bun, pushing in new black pins to keep it in place.

"Damn," I muttered, realizing I'd forgotten my Mom's bun net, and went back to my room, holding my bun in one hand. It was a crocheted red one which she'd mailed me after we'd realized the uniform colours. Somehow, between marking papers and tutoring, she'd managed to make it for me. I got the sense that she was trying to make the changing schools thing up to me. She didn't need to – it was the best thing that could've happened to me.

In the minimal light from the corridor, I checked all my desk drawers, underneath every paper, in my dance bag, my toilet bag.

"What the hell are you doing?" Leah mumbled nastily from her bed.

"Have you seen my bun net?" I asked, though I knew not to expect a straight answer.

"No and I don't care. Just stop making a racket."

I sighed and pulled out my suitcase from under the bed. _Maybe I threw it in here..._I rifled through my old black leotards and tights in the dark. "Come on..." my fingers brushed over something cold and metallic.

I frowned and picked it up. Sapphires glinted in the sparse light as I held it up, my heart thudding.

Edward's ring.

'_Just a part of me to always be with you.'_

I stared at the intricate silver carvings. The day I'd left...I had still had it in my hands when I saw Edward and Tanya together...and in the theatre...when Alice cleared the dorm and I packed my stuff, it must have fallen in. I hadn't exactly been thinking...

But now I couldn't draw my eyes away from it. That it should end up _here...now..._

There a knock on the door, "Bella?"

Jacob flicked the lights on, making Leah hurl a few curse words at us and shove a pillow over her head.

"Morning," Jacob said to me with a grin.

Quickly, I dropped the ring. "Oh there it is!" I exclaimed, seeing the bun net was in plain sight on my chest of drawers.

"I didn't quite expect to find you on the floor," he said, leaning against the frame as I pushed the suitcase back under my bed and snapped the net over my bun. "Rehearsing the death scene already?"

"May as well," I said, giving myself one final check in the mirror. "After all, it's the best scene – you get to lug me around while I play dead."

"But then I die," he pointed out. "And who wants that?"

"Me if you don't turn the light off!" Leah hissed through the pillow.

Jacob smirked, "Got everything you need, Swan?"

I nodded, tugged on some track pants and a black pullover, pushed my feet into a pair of old ug boots, and grabbed my bag. "I think so."

He held the door open for me, "Let's go."

\*\*/*/

I watched Jacob as we walked down the dark street. He just looked so confident, his hand in his pocket, the other resting on his bag. I'd decided he was immune to the cold because he was only in his scarlet v-neck and track pants.

"About last night," he began nonchalantly. "We – "

"We need to keep focussed," I finished. "I know."

He smirked at me, "The 'F' word again."

"I can't believe it's the day," I murmured as we went into the corridor via the side door. Only the security lights were on, making the hallways pale blue.

"You nervous?" he asked. We began heading up the stairs.

"I don't know yet," I said. "I guess I feel weird...it's not like nervous attacks, it's just kind of there."

He nodded, "Just do what you do best, Swan."

"How about you?" I asked, pushing the door open to our usual studio and flicking the lights and heating on.

Jacob smirked, dropping his bag at the front, "I've been waiting for this day for a long time. Nerves are not going to get in the way. Nothing is."

I nodded and got ready, pulling off my track pants and pulling on my shoes.

We didn't need any words to be said now; we never varied in our morning routine. We stood on opposite barres and began with a simple plié combination. I kept my eyes fixed on the mirror, looking first at my feet, amending my placement, checking my arch and that I was rolling through the balls of my feet. Next, I went to my legs, then my pelvis, my butt, my hips, my core. Gradually, despite my nerves, my mind sunk into that now familiar state. All there was was the mirror, the barre and me. All I noticed were the many imperfections, and all I felt was the satisfied click in my mind when one of those imperfections came right.

I was hardly aware of Jacob on the other side of the studio – like me, he was deep in his own practise.

I spent longer than usual on each movement. Nothing compared to my first class with Jacob, but this was game day – I was more aware than ever of any and every flaw. If there was one day to try for perfection, it was today.

As the sun rose, letting golden light creep across the floor, I came to the end of my last set of grand battements and immediately went into stretches. Today of all days, I didn't trust myself to stay in the zone. I didn't trust myself to not think about Edward sitting on a bus right now, crossing the state, getting closer and closer. So I didn't give myself the time. I made sure to think about which muscles I was stretching, how they felt, what I needed to pay particular attention to. I was careful to warm up my healed ankle properly, drawing circles in the air with my big toe, making sure there was no stiffness.

When Jacob's ballet slippers came into my vision, I finally looked up at him. Without a word, he helped me up and we started on the pas de deux.

The steps were so familiar to me now – like a speech that had been carefully memorized, word for word, every pronunciation studied, every punctuation point adhered to. I knew this dance. I knew it's secrets, it's twists – every part of it.

Jacob and I went through it once before dissecting it, piece by piece, to the point of individual steps. We worked easily together now. He was always exactly where I expected him to be, ready to lift me, to turn me. And I was the same, always giving him the right amount of my weight and balance, always giving him the power to lift me.

"Get on your pointe a little bit more," Jacob said as he turned me. It was a hard sequence; the first time he turned me, I faced him in arabesque, the second in passé – my toes resting just below my other knee – and then the third time I leant back against him, my leg straightening high in front of us. Getting the fluidity to change position effortlessly between each turn was hard.

"Sorry," I breathed, getting up on my pointe, immediately helping Jacob's hands at my waist. _Turn. Arabesque. Turn. Passé. Turn. Developpé. _All three were executed easily. "Keep turning," I said, then did them again, watching myself in the mirror._ Turn. Arabesque – higher, more extension. Turn. Passé – tighter, easier. Turn. Developpé – lengthen, don't rush. _We kept turning and turning until it was fixed and branded into my memory. Jacob trusted me now to know when I had it, and just turned me until I continued on from the developpé to the next step.

It went on, the sun now rising above the sky scrapers. Every section we had even the slightest apprehension about – and, to be honest, that was _every_ section – was fixed and polished. I felt my nerves thrumming in me, but now with more excitement than fear.

"We're really going to do this," I puffed when we finally finished. My hands were on my knees and I was breathing hard. There was no doubt that this was a hard pas de deux.

"Yup," Jacob said before taking a gulp of water. "And we're going to own it."

I nodded, smiling, then sat to the floor. With a little of my nervous energy worked off, I felt some the usual tiredness seeping in. "You owe me one heck of a long holiday after this, Black," I grumbled, leaning forward between my legs until my head touched the floor. Suddenly it didn't feel like such an uncomfortable position to sleep in...

"You need a coffee," Jacob said with a laugh.

I looked up hopefully, "Double shot espresso?"

He gave me his signature smirk, "Whatever you want, partner."

"Dangerous offer," I groaned as he pulled me up.

He grinned and grabbed his leather jacket from his bag, "Go do your solo – I'll be back soon."

"Don't you need to rehearse yours?"

Jacob shook his head, "I've been up since three, sweetheart."

I gaped at him, "How on Earth do you do it?"

He shot me another smirk, "Discipline and iron supplements. See you soon, Swan."

I allowed myself two seconds to rest before changing the track on the speakers and getting started. Juliet's solo was hard in some ways, but I had the advantage over Tanya – it wasn't a slow dance, and those seemed to be her forte, since they gave her the time to show off her long legs. This was Juliet's first variation – one of the ones performed in the Act One party, before all the death and fighting starts. So she dances pretty freely, with lots of turns and small jumps. Nothing too flashy, really.

Still, it required precision, which I intended to deliver. Because it was only a two minute variation, I was able to go through every single step, consuming myself once again in the imperfections and their solutions.

By the time Jacob came back, his hair tousled by the wind, clutching two coffee cups, I was feeling happy with it.

"It's looking good," he said, handing me my espresso.

"Thanks," I replied, catching my breath before taking a sip. "I don't think I could stomach anything else right now."

"We've got a long day, Swan," he said, collecting his stuff up. "Now will probably be the closest you'll come to being able to stomach food; better stock up."

"Ugh," I groaned, but untied my pointes and zipped up my bag. "Why do I trust you?"

"Because I'm awesome," he said with a grin, holding the door open for me.

"And so modest." I was in my stocking feet as we went down the corridors, but couldn't care less – I was a Royal; this was our school.

The cafeteria was less crowded than usual when we got there, so it was easier to make our way to the Royals' table. Everyone was dressed in their best scarlet and black zip up hoodies with _Aro Colaianni Academy of Dance_ printed on the front in white capitals.

"Where'd you get those?" I asked, sitting down between Gerry and Jacob.

"Had 'em for ages," Bridget said. "Don't worry – I got one for you."

She pulled one out of her bag and handed it to me. "Thanks," I said, putting it away for later. "So when do they get here?"

Robbie glanced at his watch, "Half an hour, apparently."

I swallowed, my fruit salad suddenly look _way _less appetizing.

"I'm so excited!" Danny squealed, downing her orange juice in one go. "This is gonna be epic! All the auditions and the hotels and the bus journeys and the opening night and the costumes and the romances!"

I decided that this must be Danny's way of being nervous – I didn't think it was humanly possible to speak so quickly.

"What," teased Damien, "Like you and that props handler last year?"

"He was a really good handler!" she defended.

"Ugh!" I laughed, "Too much information!"

"Oh come on, Izzy!" she squeaked. "Now, you need some fling, too!" She drummed her nails on the tabletop, "Obviously no one from _Force. _How 'bout that guy from USB?"

"He was one of the warriors, right?" Bridget said. "Really good chest..."

"He never wore deodorant!" Paul exclaimed to the general agreement of the guys. "It was so gross in the dressing rooms."

"Okay, fine," Danny said, then slammed her hand down on the table, "I've got it!" She grinned at me, "Gerry!"

"What?" I started, Gerry and I exchanged a puzzled glance.

"That would be so cute!" Bridget admitted.

"Yeah," Danny said, bouncing up and down in her seat, "I mean, it's totally meant to be, and he's the total opposite of Edward Masen!"

Gerry scratched his beard awkwardly, whilst I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing.

"Besides," Bridget said, "You guys have been acting differently around each other for ages! I mean, Gerry never teases you like he does to everyone else!"

"You guys should so go out!" Danny squealed again. "You'd be the cutest couple and it would be so romantic and – "

"That's not going to happen." I glanced round to look at Jacob, who was leaning back nonchalantly in his seat, tracing the edge of the table.

Adela giggled, "Are you _jealous, _Jacob?"

He just raised his eyebrows and kept watching his finger, "There's no need to be," he said. "Seeing as Gerry's gay."

The table turned silent.

"What?" Bridget breathed.

Jacob continued, "And he's been crushing on Seth for years now."

Seth blinked and said quietly to Gerry, "Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?"

Gerry just stood up and walked away.

"Gerry!" I exclaimed, then got up and hurried after him into the corridor.

He was pacing back and forth between the windows and a classroom door, his hands raking through his hair.

"Gerry," I said gently, trying to put a hand on his shoulder.

He flinched away, looking at me murderously, "You told him?"

"I swear I didn't," I said desperately. "I _swear. _I don't know how he found out."

"I was going to tell Seth today!" he exclaimed brokenly, dragging his hands through his hair again. "Shit! Damn it!" The list went on as I struggled for something to say.

"Gerry...maybe it was for the best. Now it's all out in the open..." _This is not what any of us needs rights now... _"I mean, maybe it was awful, but now you and Seth can be together. And you probably wouldn't have told him today, would you?"

He seemed to calm a little and slumped back against the wall, "I was already thinking up excuses," he muttered. "But I don't even know if Seth is, like..." Gerry looked at me hopelessly, "Like me..."

I smiled and shook my head, "Gerry, remember when I said that you see a lot of things when no one talks to you?"

"Yeah," he said dolefully. "I'm sorry..."

"Well, I didn't just see you staring at Seth all googly-eyed."

He looked up, finally some hope sparking in his eyes. I grinned, "I saw Seth staring back at you with just the same amount of love-sick desperation."

Finally a smile touched his lips again, "You...you think so?"

I laughed, "_Trust _me, Gerry. But now you need to talk to him. There's no point hiding out here. Besides," I said. "You need to be focussed for your audition. You need to sort this out."

He nodded, "Okay, I'll be out in a sec."

I patted him on the shoulder, "Good luck!"

"Alright," I said as I got back to the table, leaning on Jacob's empty seat. Seth still looked _very _pale. "Where is he?"

Adela quickly pointed out the window, "Said he needed to go do something with his port de bras."

"Right." I grabbed my bag from the ground and headed for the second floor studios.

It was easy to find him – every other studio with a light on had music. "So," I said, walking in. He was working through his batterie, leaping around the room in a large over. "Care to explain why the _hell _you did that?"

"It slipped out," he breathed, midway through a leap. I stepped back as he passed me. "I'm rehearsing, Bella."

"Jacob," I said, stepping directly into his path. "Stop avoiding it."

"Shit!" he exclaimed, seeing me just before his foot would have taken me out. He stopped and cursed. "Bella, we need focus right now."

"Jacob, why did it 'slip out'?"

"It just did, Bella," he said, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I was nervous and it just – "

"You weren't nervous," I said pointedly. "I know you and you don't get nervous, so what is it?"

Jacob shook his head, putting his hands on my shoulders, "Bella, we can't have drama right now. I need focus, I need to be focussed, I need you to be focussed."

"Just tell me why, Jacob," I whispered, putting a hand to his cheek.

He sighed and looked away, my hand falling back to my side, "I don't want this right now, Bella. I don't want to tell you this right now because I don't want to distract you..." he took a deep breath, "I said it because I didn't like the idea of you being with someone else, with Gerry...when I want you to be with me."

I blinked, staring at him, "But you said the other night that we needed to stay focussed. I mean...you've always said we need to be focussed."

"And I still hold true to that, Bella," he said swiftly, taking my hand. "This can't get in the way – "

"It won't," I whispered quickly, squeezing his fingers. "It won't. I don't want it to, either. But...to know that we were that unbreakable, that we were that strong together..." I looked up at him, "That could be an asset, Jacob."

He was silent for a moment, looking at our linked hands, at me. "Alright," he said quietly. "Let's do this."

He hooked a finger under my chin and brought his lips to mine. Practically bursting with happiness, I wrapped my arms round his neck and deepened to kiss, finally not feeling guilty at all for breaking focus. We were together. Nothing could stop us.

There was a knock on the door. We broke apart just as Adela poked her head in, "Caius said to come and find you – they're arriving now."

My nerves fired up in me. I looked at Jacob, "Let's do this."

He gave me his signature smirk and we followed Adela up to the main studio on the third floor.

"They're just entering the building now," Caius was saying as we went into the room. It was the school's largest studio – enough for full cast rehearsals.

We joined our class who were leaning against the back barre. "I should go talk to Gerry," Jacob murmured to me.

I nodded and stood between Bridget and Amanda.

Caius was in front of us, dressed in another sharp black suit, "I'm sure I don't need to remind you that this year you are hosting this production and that you must, at all times, display exemplary behaviour and manners." He eyed us all carefully, "Don't let me down."

The sound of many footsteps came from outside.

"You ready for this?" Bridget whispered to me as I quickly zipped up my _Colaianni _sweater.

"Completely," I replied.

The door opened, and there he was.

* * *

><p>And so we come to it.<p>

Should be another chapter up before Christmas but if you're lucky enough to be heading away then I wish you a very happy Christmas and New Years!

**I would love to hear your thoughts! Please review and tell me what you think of dear old Gerry, Seth, Jacob, Angela, Ben, Bella and all the rest!**

**Merry Christmas - I wish you many candy canes! You're awesome!**

* * *

><p><em>If you're curious to see what this amazing pas de deux looks like, YouTube search Balcony pas de deux - Lauren Cuthbertson and Frederico Bonelli. That's the one I'm working off - so beautiful!<em>


	20. Chapter 20

Hello!

Woah. This has been a biggie, both in word count and in content, yet I have enjoyed writing this one so much!

**Your reviews were, as always, absolutely amazing. I would not be getting up at five in the morning without them.**

**Thank you so much for all your support up to this point - twenty whole chapters you have managed to get me through!**

**Thank you!**

Alright, let's get into this, shall we?

**Please review!**

**And enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Read All About It - Emeli Sande (Sport Personality 2012 singer and she was amazing! Really emotive piece!)<em>

_Jar of Hearts - Christina Perri (of course)_

_The Truth - Audiomachine (for the times when words get annoying)_

_Eve of Battle - Audiomachine (I wonder why...hmmm...)_

* * *

><p>Edward walked in with an air of confidence, as if the room wasn't full of tension. As if we weren't all staring at him. As we weren't even present. He was in the official <em>Force <em>uniform – black trousers, black shoes, a white shirt and a fitted navy blue blazer which accentuated his tall, toned physique. The crest of Marcus Vigernon was emblazoned on the breast pocket, a clear reminder of who Edward was.

The group of students who followed him were all dressed the same, though the girls were in black plaited skirts and knee high navy socks. I recognized most of their faces from _Force's _corridors or the Dining Hall, but they didn't look our way, following Edward's example, I guessed.

No one spoke, making their footsteps on the studio floor almost deafening.

"Edward," Caius greeted as they met in the centre. "It's good to see you."

Edward shook hands with our headmaster. "Thank you for hosting us."

"Our pleasure," Caius replied, then gestured to us, "I'm sure you all have many reunions to make."

No one moved.

Then Edward turned. I braced myself, waiting for him to look at me. But his eyes did not meet mine.

Jacob strolled forward, his most sarcastic smirk on his face, hand extended, "Ed."

Edward didn't break eye contact as they shook – the two best male dancers in the country, "Jake."

"No more words?" Jacob asked politely.

"None appropriate," Edward replied bluntly, then dropped Jacob's hand and led the rest of his class to the left wall, dropping his Nike sports bag under the barre, leaving Jacob alone in the middle of the studio.

But he wasn't fazed. He shot us a grin, which we returned, and sauntered back to his spot between Gerry and Robbie.

"Are you okay?" Bridget whispered to me as the _Force _students put down their bags.

"I'm fine," I said easily. And I was. If I could just keep on watching as I had been, observing objectively, then I would be okay.

"You're gripping the barre so hard it'll probably snap."

I stared at my hand; the knuckles were white, my fingers clutching the wood. I swallowed, realizing that I wasn't fine; I was just in denial. I looked at Edward again, standing by the barre, watching his classmates, and I felt my heart squeeze. I had to admit the truth to myself.

That he was so...familiar.

Achingly, painfully familiar.

His bronze, spiky hair which I had run my fingers through the night before I'd left. His handsome, expressive face which I had seen in both pain and happiness. His hands – hands which had held me safe at great heights; hands which had run over my skin, brushed away tears; hands which had taken hold of my own when I needed help. For such a long time, however short it may have felt, I had looked at him in such a way which made everything else in the world fade from existence.

I guessed it was habit now which made my new friends and my new school and everything else disappear. All I saw was him. Edward. Familiar beyond all else. And I hated it. I hated it and yet still my mind was consumed with him.

The sharp click of heels suddenly echoed into the room, snapping me away from him. I released my hand from the barre. That was it – that was the only indulgence I would give myself.

"Here we go," Danny muttered.

I didn't need to look up to know what she was talking about. Black heels, five inches high, with that certain colour glinting from the inside of the heel. Gold.

It was no surprise to look up and see that it was Tanya Denali strutting across the room. "Hi Caius!" she chimed in that sickly sweet voice as she passed him.

She hadn't changed. She was still the tall, slim, strawberry blonde bitch from last year, her hair done up in a high, regal bun, her eyes dusted with gold eye shadow. Her skirt was short, her blazer fitted and her hand clutched a gold Gucci handbag.

In a neat twirl, she came to stand next to Edward. "Thank God we're off that freaking bus!" she said chattily to him, though he didn't seem to be listening. "My hamstrings need serious stretching."

"And I wonder who's gonna be helping her with that," Bridget whispered. Danny and Adela giggled. I was still trying to conjure up a smile when four people burst through the door.

"Why in the name of Pavlova did you bring your sewing machine?" a strained Russian accent asked. Suddenly, my smile was unforced as Jasper swung around, holding a huge duffel bag with both arms.

"I told you – I have no faith in their death-dress expertise!" Alice sprung out from behind him just in time to catch the bag before it fell. "Okay," she grunted. "Maybe it was a bit of an overkill."

I should've guessed that there was no way Alice would keep to the uniform regulations; her skirt was trimmed with pink tulle, along with all the seams of her blazer. Bright orange pumps, far more tasteful than Tanya's, adorned her feet. Only Alice could pull off such a clash of colour...

"It's the big one!" Adela whispered excitedly as Emmett swooped in and grabbed the machine from Alice's shaking arms and plonked it back in Jasper's, then continued on, a duffel bag on each arm, to Caius.

""Long time no see, C!" he exclaimed. Robbie and Damien exchanged a look and I knew why – it wasn't right that someone from outside should be more comfortable than our headmaster than we were.

But I saw the contempt in Caius' eyes as he replied curtly, "You also, Emmett." Caius looked with displeasure at Alice, Jasper and Rosalie, who were trying to juggle too many bags between them, laughing away while the rest of the room lay silent. "Where is your father?"

Emmett shrugged, dropping one bag at Tanya's feet, "On his way."

"My spare pointe shoes are in there!" she exclaimed angrily, snatching the bag up.

"Sweetheart," Emmett said gravely. "They have survived through your dancing; they can survive anything."

She looked at him murderously.

"Kidding!" he exclaimed, putting his free hand up in surrender.

"Don't be mean," Rosalie chastised, plucking the other bag from his grasp and going to stand next to Tanya. "That's my job."

"Damn," Damien whispered, shaking his head, "That blonde gets me every time."

"So, Edward," Emmett planted a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "Where is she?"

"Emmett," Edward said in quiet warning.

"Oh come on, Edward! You know I – "

But I stopped listening, because it was then that Edward looked at me. I realized that he had known I was standing here all along. Our gazes met, those emerald eyes...familiar beyond forgetting. I knew those eyes. Three memories suddenly filled my mind;

The first was from long ago, when Mike had dropped me on my first day in the studio. Edward, my teacher, had knelt down beside me, his eyes concerned and troubled despite having just yelled at Mike, and asked, _"Are you okay?"_

The second memory was on the _Force _stage, just a moment after Tanya had tripped me. I was about to collapse when Edward's arm had wrapped around my waist. _"You're here," _I had whispered, not being able to believe it.

He had gazed down at me with as much happy, startled disbelief, _"I'm here."_

But the final memory was the strongest. Snow floating all around us, coming to rest on my tutu, in his dark hair. And those green eyes, suddenly blank, suddenly...shut off to me. Any connection, cut. _"This isn't what I thought it was."_

And so I looked into those same eyes now, and he looked back. They were steady, level. They weren't sad, or questioning or angry or remorseful. He just gazed at me...an acknowledgement that I was here and so was he. Nothing more.

"BELLA!"

I had half a second's warning before I was hoisted into the air. "Shit!" I squealed, grappling to find Emmett's shoulders as his arms squeezed my waist.

"Missed you, too!" he shouted happily. I could see the Royals staring at him, not exactly sure what to do.

"Put her down, Emmett!" Alice exclaimed. "I should get first hug!"

Emmett laughed and dutifully set me back on my feet. Alice quickly bumped him out of the way and threw her arms around me, "I've missed you so much!" she squealed, pulling back. "I can't believe I didn't recognize you! You look..." she studied my face for a second. I caught the hint of concern in her eyes, but then she laughed, "You look like you've finally discovered the makeup drawer!"

I smiled uneasily. I stupidly hadn't planned for this. What _was _I meant to do about my old _Force _friends? Edward and Tanya were easy – I had a reason to ignore them. But Alice and Jasper, Emmett and Rosalie? They hadn't exactly done anything wrong...they were just _Force, _and I was a Royal who wanted nothing to do with anyone from _Force. _

"It's good to see you again, Bella," Jasper said, giving me a quick hug and his kind smile.

"You too," I said weakly, staring at my three old friends, who were all looking at me expectantly. Fortunately, it was at that moment that one last _Force _student walked in the door, carrying a pile of costume bags. Her cropped, pale blonde hair and pointed little face immediately made me forget my other problems, "What is she doing here?" I demanded.

"Lauren?" Alice said, glancing back at her as she asked Caius about where to put the costumes, "She's the lucky NFSI First Year."

"Why?"

Alice frowned, "Because she's good? Carlisle always chooses a really good First Year and a couple of Second Years to come and get some experience. What's the problem?"

I shook my head, "Nothing." My voice told them it was anything but.

I didn't have to explain, though, because finally my old headmaster made an appearance, striding into the room like the powerful man he was.

However much I hated _Force, _Carlisle Cullen would always be someone I had to respect. Today, like Caius, he was dressed in a black suit with a blue shirt, looking every bit the ballet legend he was. But he wasn't alone; beside him walked a man who, conversely, I had absolutely no respect for. Jeffrey Evans. Head of the US Ballet Academy. Last year he had told me before the Review that I should give up trying to be a dancer and not waste my life. _Oh, when he sees me, _I thought with a smile.

"Carlisle, Jeffrey," Caius said, shaking their hands, "Welcome." He murmured something in Carlisle's ear.

Nodding, Carlisle turned to us, "Miss Brandon, Mister Cullen, Mister Hale. Back in line."

"Yes sir," they muttered. Alice shot me a final grin and they took their places with Edward, Tanya and Rosalie.

The USB students began pouring into the room, all dressed in their red, white and blue tracksuits with their last names printed on the back.

"Ugh," Bridget whispered, "You'd think they were off to the Olympics."

"Tacky, right?" Danny said. "And pretentious."

"Until we beat them," I replied, watching them group up along the right wall.

Their presence, though, seemed to do away with any more tense silences.

"Alright," Caius said clapping his hands once they all seemed to be settled. At some point, Vicky, Mark, Mrs Tia and Mister York had slipped in and now stood behind the three headmasters. Another woman stood by the door. She had a severe face, her greying hair shoulder length. She wore a charcoal business suit, making her look very official. "I would like to welcome you all to Aro Colaianni's and this year's NFSI production of _Romeo and Juliet."_

We applauded, Alice jumping up and down, clutching Jasper's arm. I'd forgotten how amusing they could be...but they were still _Force._

"The boarding houses are currently being cleaned for your use and will be ready for tonight. If you need any help finding your way around, any of my students will be happy to assist."

He gestured to us, but not one of us looked remotely accommodating. If Tanya asked me where the audition room was, I would probably send her to the male teachers' toilets and hope someone important was in there.

Caius cleared his throat and continued, telling everyone the general layout of the school.

"Couldn't he just give them a map?" Danny muttered as we stood there, getting very bored whilst Alice was asking questions about the costuming room and Emmett was taking careful note of where the cafeteria was.

All we wanted to do was get out of here, put our shoes on and show everyone else how we were going to beat them. I looked at Jacob in the mirror. He was leaning back against the barre, staring out the window.

"Alright," Caius said, clapping his hands to regain attention. "Now I will hand over to your director for this year, Monsieur Carlisle Cullen."

More applause. There were whoops from the _Force _group – mostly from Emmett – as Carlisle stepped forward. "Thank you, Caius. As you all know, I am Carlisle Cullen, headmaster of _Force de la Beauté..."_

"Ah," I heard Adela sigh. "True French, oui?"

"Crushing, Adela?" Bridget teased.

"...and I do not like people talking over me." Carlisle stopped and stared pointedly at us. Our mouths clamped shut, he continued, "I am very excited for this year's production and I know that with the amount of talented dancers in this room, it will be a particularly spectacular season. We also have an amazing team of instructors who I know you will all treat with the appropriate respect." He began listing them off and pointing. "We are also fortunate to have Victoria Sutherland, whom a few of you will know as a principal dancer from previous NFSI's."

She gave almost a shy wave. In the mirrors, I noticed Jacob giving an agitated look. I understood why he didn't like her – when you had Jacob's talent, her style of teaching was smothering.

"Finally," Master Carlisle said. "I have the honour of introducing the director of the LA Elite Youth Course and Artistic Director of the South Carolina Ballet, Mrs Helen Fortescue."

As the severe woman in the tweed suit shook Carlisle's hand, I looked at Edward, who was staring at the woman with barely concealed contempt.

I knew why – she was the woman who, after Edward's accident in LA, had told him he should never dance on emotion; that everything needed to be choreographed and thought of. There could be no spontaneity.

Edward had shown her in a bad light, but now I guessed that she was probably a very smart woman.

"Now, to auditions," Carlisle said. We all stood a little straighter. This was what we wanted to know. "You will have around an hour to dress and warm up. Those of you who are already in the Corps de Ballet will stay here with Ms Sutherland and begin learning the party scene from act one. All those auditioning will meet in the theatre at twelve. The minor roles will be auditioned first, the principals last."

Across the room, Edward finally looked at Tanya and they nodded to each other. I doubted auditioning fazed them; they had done it a lot. _Not that that makes any difference._

Jacob met my gaze in the mirror with a wink. _Together, they can't beat us._

"Casting will be posted tonight," Carlisle said. "_Bon chance."_

The room erupted into nervous chaos as everyone made for their dance bags.

"Victoria," I heard Edward say from across the room. Vicky gave him a broad smile and they hugged, kissing each other on the cheek. I stared as Edward pulled back, looking her up and down, "How are you?" his voice seemed to have real concern in it.

Vicky's reply was lost as a group of _Force _students passed.

"Bella!" Alice called, waving her hand, "Come warm up with us!"

"Uh," I said pathetically, "I can't – I've got some stuff to sort out."

"Okay," she said. "We'll catch up later!" Linking arms with Jasper, they left.

Bridget slumped against the barre, "Those people are exhausting!"

"I still like thebig French one," Adela said.

"He's _Force!" _Robbie exclaimed.

"I know," she said with a laugh. "Cannon-fodder, isn't that what you Americans used to say?"

I looked up, feeling eyes on me, only to see Edward and Tanya walking out the door.

"Bella." Jacob stepped into view. "We need to rehearse."

Picking up my bag, I nodded. I needed to clear my head.

It was weird seeing _Force _and USB students running around our corridors, using our changing rooms.

"How are you doing?" Jacob asked me as we went down to our normal second floor studio. We weren't meant to be there, but that didn't matter.

"That was...draining," I said, taking off my Colaianni sweater. "But bearable."

Jacob nodded, putting his arms behind his head to stretch. "I guess you've never seen the Aro's versus _Force _rivalry in full swing."

"It's intense," I said. "But why did it even occur in the first place?"

"Believe me," he said, slowly lowering into the front splits. "That's not a story I want to tell before an audition."

"Okay..." I went into the split in front of him, our faces close, "But you're gonna have to tell me sometime."

He smiled, "Right. Now stretch."

My nerves grew as the hour went by. We went over the steps again and again. I ran my solo, Jacob reminding me of any flaws I'd forgotten. I felt desperate as the time ticked along on the clock above the mirror. Still I was finding things to fix. In every step there was something that wasn't right.

"Alright," Jacob said eventually. There were ten minutes to go. He put his hands on his hips, blowing out a long breath, "Water, stretch, go."

"Damn it," I muttered, realizing I'd forgotten my water. "I'll be two seconds!"

I hurried out into the corridor and up the stairs. I was just about to round the corner when I heard voices.

"Caius, this is ridiculous," It was Carlisle's French accent. And, unusually, he did not sound calm. "I cannot condone your student having two auditions, two chances when every other student has one or none."

Jacob's extra audition as the Prince of Verona; I realized that was what he was disputing.

"It's not your call, Carlisle," Caius replied. "I have permission. It is a stupid system, anyway."

"I know it is. But that doesn't mean you can change it for one student. If Edward or Tanya doesn't get lead, they will be understudies. Or Jacob's partner will be an understudy. Yet Jacob somehow gets a second chance?"

"This is his last year to make an impression! And Edward always gets lead." Anger burned in me – _so supportive of your own student, Caius_. "You know Jacob deserves something."

"Considering that boy's behaviour," Carlisle snapped. "I would not say he deserves anything – least of all a main role." I heard a pause, then my old headmaster sighed, "Caius, when he is given the Prince, a lot of students will be upset. Quite rightly upset."

"Well, Carlisle, I don't think this conversation is even necessary," It sounded as though Caius had changed tack. "Considering Jacob _will _be Romeo this year." He had _really _changed tack. Obviously his pride was hurting.

"The role is almost absolutely Edward's," Carlisle said. I heard slow footsteps. _Crap! _I backed further down the wall. "The panel has already agreed to it, considering last year's success. Edward is a classic, perfect Romeo."

"You might be surprised," Caius said stiffly. The footsteps got closer. "Jacob has a new partner this year. You might know her..."

They rounded the corner. I made a show of still walking.

"Ah, Bella!" Caius exclaimed. I had never heard him so happy to see me. "We were just talking about you."

"Oh, really?" I said politely.

"Bella," Master Carlisle said with a smile, taking my hand in both of his, "It is good to see you here. And a Royal, nonetheless."

"The Royal who is Jacob Black's partner, Carlisle," Caius said.

Carlisle let my hand go. He hid his surprise well, but it was still there, "Really? Congratulations."

"Thank you, sir," I replied.

He suddenly seemed distracted, "We had best get to the theatre."

Caius gave me a sly smile, "Good luck, Bella. I'm sure you'll do excellently."

I watched them go, Carlisle seeming to walk with more urgency than before. "Emile!" he said to a _Force _girl rounding the corner. "Have you seen Edward?"

The girl shook her head, "No, sir."

I thought I heard a certain French word cursed under his breath, but then he was gone. Quickly, I turned back the way I came, hurrying all the way back to the studio.

"We're going to win, right?" I said as I burst in.

Jacob was running through his solo. "Yes," he said, coming to a halt.

"Don't do the Prince audition."

He frowned, wiping sweat from his brow, "Why not?"

"I just heard Caius and Carlisle talking." I shook my head, "They don't think we stand a chance. Carlisle's expecting you to get the Prince. Don't do the Prince audition – show them that you only want Romeo, nothing less. Show them you mean business. They've already decided on Edward."

Jacob's face darkened.

I kept going, "If they can use the Prince role as an excuse to move you out of the way, they will. Think about it – it sounds like the perfect compromise; Edward in lead because Jacob just did such an amazing audition for the Prince that they just had to give him that role. They won't even watch us for Romeo and Juliet."

Slowly, Jacob nodded, "Alright. We rehearse another half hour."

I now had an extra hundred butterflies in my stomach; if Jacob didn't get Romeo, then I was in serious, _serious _trouble because he would have nothing. And Edward would have everything.

\*\*/*/

"Where the Hell have you been, dude?" Gerry asked as we arrived backstage of the Colaianni Theatre. It wasn't a big theatre – nothing like the _Force de la Beauté _French masterpiece; – it was more for student rehearsal and exams, plus the occasional invitation-only performance for benefactors of the school. The stage was a moderate size, with the usual dark red curtains. There were three blocks of seats leading up to two green exit signs and the lighting box.

Today, the house lights were dimmed but on. I peeked round the wing curtain to see the panel sitting three rows back from the front. Carlisle, Caius, Jeffrey Evans and Helen Fortescue were all in a row, writing as they watched Paul dance across the floor as Benvolio. My nerves burned in me now and I couldn't stop them. This was it...

"We were just rehearsing," Jacob was saying as I turned back to them.

"You missed your Prince audition – they called your name five times!"

Jacob shrugged, "That's not exactly what I'm after, though, is it?"

Gerry stared at Jacob, "Okay..."

"Sounds like a dumb idea," Leah murmured, coming up to us in her thick Nurse's skirt.

Paul came off the stage as his piece finished, "God, that was terrifying," he puffed, not helping my nerves.

"Well done," Gerry said, patting him on the back.

Helen Fortescue's voice came through the speakers, "Auditioning for the nurse – Rosalie Hale from _Force de la Beauté._"

From across the stage, I could see Alice, Jasper, Emmett and the other _Force _students stretching together and watching. Emmett gave Rosalie a lingering kiss before she strutted onto the stage.

"Great – it's the Russian," Leah muttered, a spark of disappointment in her eye. Admittedly, from what I'd heard, Rosalie would far surpass Leah. Unlike any other _Force _versus Aro's rivalry, though, I didn't really care.

We all turned to watch, Damien going right into the wings to see.

Rosalie reached the centre of the stage and stopped.

The music started up, lively and spirited.

But she just stood there, hand on her hip.

Everyone stared – Jeffrey Evans, I noticed, with an open mouth.

Then her voice rang out loud and clear through the theatre, "I am not playing the nurse."

And then she strutted off again, leaving all of us staring at the empty space.

The music was cut off.

In the opposite wings, everyone was trying to conceal their laughter. Emmett, of course, could not, and let out a loud snort, shook his head and lifted Rosalie up in his arms, "Hell yeah! That's my girl!"

"Emmett Cullen," it was Master Carlisle's voice on the speaker this time. "_Ferme la bouche!"_

After a moment, Mrs Fortescue's voice was back on.

"Leah Clearwater, also auditioning for the nurse, from Aro Colaianni's."

Leah rolled her shoulders back and went on.

"Hard act to follow," Damien said, strolling back to us, shaking his head in wonder.

Gerry rolled his eyes, "Even if I wasn't...you know...I still don't know what you see in her."

Damien clapped him on the back, "Course you don't!"

More auditions followed.

Damien did a good Friar Laurence, but we could all see he was beaten by a guy from the USB who really did a very good impression of a slightly eccentric old man.

"They look like gymnasts," Adela murmured as he finished. I had to agree – the USB boys were dressed in white unitards with some kind of blue and white swirl across the front and, of course, their surname printed on the back. The girls had a similar design on their long sleeved leotards.

"Maybe their teachers can't remember their names," I suggested.

The US Ballet didn't seem to be that amazing, despite the costuming. The pair for Lord and Lady Capulet was a little messy. The choreography involved a lot of stepping over your partner's legs – it was a difficult move to pull off without looking clumsy.

We clapped, though, as Robbie and Adela finished; they had done a clean, exact performance, balancing their weights perfectly.

"This one's in the can," Robbie said with a grin, his arm around Adela's waist.

"And lastly for Lord and Lady Capulet; Jasper Hale and Alice Brandon from _Force de la Beauté."_

"She's too short," Adela said happily. "It's _really _in the can."

Not entirely sure, I slipped into the wings.

Jasper escorted Alice on like the gentleman he was, one hand in hers and the other on her waist.

And like the fashion-junky she was, Alice had dressed herself to be noticed.

The role required a long, full skirt. Embracing the idea of the evil couple, she'd made an Elizabethan-like skirt of dark red satin, overlaid with black lace. On top she wore a matching red satin leotard with lace cap sleeves.

"They're wearing our colours!" Adela hissed behind me, but everyone was transfixed, watching.

To think that Alice and Jasper could turn so nasty was a weird idea, and yet they crept down stage like the powerful nobles their roles required, Alice's skirts easily crossing over Jasper's leg. As they leant away from each other they looked into each other's eyes, smirking, as if they had some kind of a plan to get back at the Montagues.

Then he twirled her across and she leaned back, arm reaching up, as he circled her almost territorially. _Definitely _not normal Alice and Jasper.

They ended in a similar pose, those smirks still in place, and then walked off to a cheer from the growing audience.

As soon as they got offstage, Alice squealed and threw her arms around Jasper's neck. I felt a burst of envy, but then I realized that I could have that, too; I had Jacob.

The Tybalt auditions were next. With two average dancers from _Force _and the USB, Gerry went on with all the confidence in the world. Within the first minute, everyone could see he had nailed it.

He came off puffing, but his eyes alight.

"Next will be the auditions for Mercutio, beginning with Emmett Cullen from _Force de la Beauté."_

Emmett came out with a huge grin on his face and made a show of standing in the centre, his legs a little too wide and his hands on his hips. It was undeniable; Emmett already embodied Mercutio.

I had never caught more than few glimpses of Emmett dancing before and I had always wondered how on Earth he danced with so much muscle, but he seemed to flit across the stage, teasing the imaginary party guests, spinning and jumping, effectively naming the floor his own. He bowed flirtingly to invisible maidens – I did see that one of them appeared to be directed at where Rosalie stood in the wings – and mockingly to the gentlemen. Every part of him seemed to be alive with humour. He finished in the centre with a flourishing bow, arms outstretched.

"Did I do well enough for a kiss?" Emmett joked pleadingly as he reached Rosalie, who looked at him devilishly.

I turned around just in time to see Gerry approaching Seth, who was rubbing his hands together nervously.

"Seth," Gerry began, tapping him on the arm. "I just wanted to – "

"Don't touch me," Seth said quietly, then walked past me into the wing.

I looked at Gerry desperately, "Gerry – "

"Alright," Jacob swooped in front of me, taking my hands and blocking my view of Gerry's distraught face. "Enough drama; let's stretch."

I rush of nerves hit me. Seth and someone from USB were the last Mercutio auditionees, and then it was Romeo and Juliet. Jacob was right; enough drama.

I tried not to think too much as I sat down into the butterfly stretch, pushing my knees to the floor.

But then the stage door opened. "Honestly, that was a one hundred dollar manicure, Eddie!"

I tensed as Tanya stepped backstage, dressed in a glittering gold leotard and a matching chiffon wrap skirt which was longer at the back – down to her calves – than the front, where it came to just below her knees. Mine was almost the same, but I hadn't put it on yet for fear of ripping it.

Edward followed in one of his usual fitted blue v-neck t-shirts and black tights. "Tanya..." he said tiredly.

But Tanya had spotted me. "You," she said, walking over, her costume sparkling blindingly.

"Is it Christmas?" I asked politely, pleased with the steadiness in my voice.

She glared at me, taking in my boring old halter neck leotard, "What are you doing here? Auditioning for props assistant?"

Edward appeared at her side, "What are you – "

He saw me sitting on the floor and halted. Not wanting another flood of memories, I looked away.

"Aw, cute," Tanya cooed.

"Tanya," Edward said warningly. I could still feel his eyes on me. "Go find Alice and ask her how everyone did."

She scoffed, "I'm not a dog, Edward."

"I don't know," I said nonchalantly, unfolding my legs and reaching over to hold my foot. "There's a synonym for that which I'm sure most people here would agree suits you perfectly."

"How _dare _you!" she seethed, but I just touched my forehead to my knee, breathing into the stretch. I heard her storming away through the crossover.

I swallowed, keeping my head down. "Bella," Edward said quietly. I heard him crouch down beside me. He was so close – I could smell his cologne. _Familiar; so familiar. _But I kept my head down, my face pressed against my knee. "We need to talk."

I felt my eyes flicker shut. I didn't need this now. I couldn't have this now...

"Shouldn't you be having a prayer circle or something?"

I heard Edward swiftly stand and smiled as I felt Jacob's presence behind me.

"Where's Leah?" Edward asked. "Or did she leave you, too?"

I tensed, waiting for Jacob to drop the bomb. But instead, I heard him put a hand on the barre and his foot brushing the floor in tendus or something. "She's getting water. Don't worry – we'll be there. Now get off my side of the stage."

"Have fun in the audience each night," Edward muttered, and I heard him walking away.

Quickly, I stood up, turning on Jacob, "Why didn't you tell him?"

Jacob shook his head, continuing with a frappe combination, "Bella, the last thing you need right now is seeing Edward's reaction to our partnership."

I nodded, biting my lip for the nerves, "Okay."

"We now move on to the principal roles of Romeo and Juliet," Helen Fortescue's voice came through. Jacob gave me a smirk as I tried to breathe steadily. "As the Pas de Deuxs are the centre of the whole ballet, we will begin with those."

There was a pause.

"The first audition for Romeo and Juliet will be performed by Edward Masen and Tanya Denali from _Force de la Beauté."_

Jacob pulled me into the wings. I hesitated. "It'll be just like all the videos," he said encouragingly.

_All the videos I haven't watched..._

Taking a shaky breath, I stood against the black painted wall of the front wing and watched Edward lead Tanya on, his hand on the small of her back, her hand lightly in his own.

The panel sat up expectantly – to them, these two were the season's leads already.

Just as we did, they began upstage, hand in hand, facing forward.

Edward's eyes drifted shut. His chest rose, then fell.

The music began, he opened his eyes, and I should've known then that wouldn't survive it.

They walked forward slowly, Tanya's skirt gently breezing behind her. They both looked up into the dim theatre, but I knew that that was not what Edward saw. He was marvelling; marvelling at his Juliet.

They turned to each other at the front of the stage. Tanya reached forward and brought his hand to her ribs. He looked at their hands, then leaned forward, trying to be closer. But she smiled and ran away, Edward following.

He swooped in front of her, putting his hand out as if to say 'wait'. And then the real dancing began. Leaving Tanya in the corner, he stepped and raised his leg, turning on the ball of his foot. His hands fell in a great arch, each time serenading Tanya. Juliet. He was showing her how much he loved her.

I felt my heart ache with his, as if it would burst for needing to tell her. He tried harder, turning three times on one spin, his leg extended behind him. Quickly, another step forward, another pirouette. His eyebrows were pressed together, trying to express this _love. _

I heard his exhale as he ran and then launched into the air in a fantastic, awe-inspiring leap. His head was thrown back, his leg muscles stuck through the fabric of his tights.

My throat tightened. I had forgotten the strength of Edward's dancing. The sheer power in his body.

I didn't know how I had forgotten...but now all the memories of his dancing seemed to burn in my mind. Because his body and the way it moved, the way it _expressed..._well, that was more familiar than anything else.

He landed his last leap and held out a hand to Tanya, asking her to join her.

She ran gracefully to him, smiling, then pirouetted just in front of him. Easily, he brought his hands to her waist.

_The music broke out of its hush into its high notes again, and finally we were rushing to each other, me spinning into a pirouette as our hands met._

I felt my nails dig into my palm as Edward turned Tanya. Those same hands. She came out of the pirouette into an arabesque, the smile still on her face – it didn't quite reach her eyes. Edward dipped her low, his arm the only thing keeping her from hitting the floor.

_He quickly caught me again, bringing me right down until I was bent back over his arm, staring up at his face._

As I watched him kneel before Tanya, I felt pain I thought I would never have had to feel again. Yet it was there. The hopeless knowledge that I...I couldn't dance with him again.

_He was sinking down onto one knee, bringing himself lower than me. His hand clasped to his chest. Then his face lifted again. Our eyes locked._

"Jacob," I whispered fearfully, not taking my eyes off Edward. Not able to. "Jacob...I can't do this..."

I felt Jacob's hand above my elbow. He tried to turn me, but my body was too tense.

"Bella," he said softly. "Bella, come on."

I spun around, feeling stupid tears in my eyes. "I didn't watch the videos," I whispered pathetically. "I couldn't. I can't focus, Jacob; I can't do it. All my memories of him – everything's coming back and I just – "

"Bella," Jacob interrupted, pulling me so that I was facing away from them completely. His hands gripped the tops of my bare arms. "Look at me, Bella," he ordered. "Look at me."

Blinking away the tears, I looked up at him, "What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing," he said firmly. "You just need to remember that no matter what he's doing out there, you have a choice whether you let it affect you or not. Don't let your memories of him keep you from the more recent memories, Bella." He put a hand to my cheek, not letting me look away from his dark brown eyes, "Remember who you've become, Bella. Everything you've achieved in such a short amount of time. You've become the most amazing dancer, Bella; don't let him take that away from you."

"Dancing with him..." I shook my head. "It made me happy."

Jacob brushed a tear from my cheek, "But by the time you came here, you were miserable, Bella. Yet now you're back, Bella, and so much stronger."

I nodded shakily, trying, _trying _to hear his words. But still Edward was there, in my mind.

"Bella," Jacob said again, hooking a finger under my chin, bringing my face up once more. "This morning you told me that we were unbreakable. Don't let him get to you, Bella. For God's sake don't let him win."

"I don't want him to win," I whispered, reaching up to touch Jacob's face. "I want us to win. Us, together. Unbreakable. Stronger than Edward and I ever were."

Gently, he pulled me closer. His warm hand cupped my cheek. I felt the final memories of Edward slip away as our lips touched. _Unbreakable, _my mind whispered instead, _we're unbreakable. _My fingers slid round to his hair, my mouth pressed harder and his did the same, his hand tracing down my spine. _Stronger. Unbreakable._

"Mister Masen?"

We both spun around, realizing the music had stopped.

"Mister Masen?"

But Mrs Fortescue's voice probably wouldn't get through. Because Edward was staring at us, his hand frozen on Tanya's waist, his lips parted, his eyes...looking at me with all the betrayal and pain and disbelief in the world.

I stared back, equally frozen. I hadn't intended...but I should have thought..._oh God..._

I clutched Jacob's hand hard.

"Edward," it was Carlisle's voice on the microphone now. "Edward, come on."

Tanya prodded him in the arm.

In a split second, his eyes snapped away from us. "Excuse me," he said, clearing his throat to cover the tremor in his voice. "From the overhead?" He and Tanya made to get in position.

"No thank you," Helen Fortescue's bland, unforgiving voice was back. "We've seen enough. That will be all."

Edward and Tanya seemed to pause for a moment, neither of them seeming to be able to comprehend what was happening.

Then Tanya tore off back to the _Force _wings, expecting Edward to follow.

But he headed straight for us, his eyes set on Jacob, his fists clenched. I had never seen him so furious.

He shoved Jacob against the wall, his fingers clawed into Jacob's shoulder.

"Edward!" I whispered, but he wasn't listening.

"Don't you fucking dare!" he snarled in Jacob's face.

Jacob just looked at him, "Get off me, Masen; you've already damaged your chances enough."

Edward glared at him, then snatched his hand away. He turned to me, his expression somewhere between disgust and desperation, "Bella, how can you – "

"No," I said quietly, finally addressing him, finally looking him in the eye. "You don't get to judge, Edward. You don't get to say a thing and you know damn well why."

He gazed at me with such...sadness. Everything else was gone. Just sadness. And it would have torn me down if I didn't already know I was stronger than that. "Good luck, Bella," he said. "I hope you get everything you want." Then he turned on his heel and left.

Straight away, Jacob put his hands on my shoulders, but my thoughts were right there with him. "Focus," I said with a nod.

He nodded, swallowing, "No matter what has happened before this second, we need to ignore it."

"The next audition for Romeo and Juliet will be performed by Jacob Black and Bella Swan from Aro Colaianni's."

I took a deep breath and let it out. The nerves stirring in me didn't worry me so much now as Jacob led me out onto the stage.

_Just focus, Bella. Just focus._

* * *

><p>I know! Sorry, sorry, sorry! It was getting <em>really <em>long and I need a coffee!

**You guys have inspired me this entire year - you've never let me down, even through all my laziness and exams and spelling mistakes!**

**If you're celebrating it, I hope you have an amazing Christmas!**

**Hopefully I'll see you before New Year's...**

**ALSO! Apparently one of you has nominated our amazing danseurs and danseuses for a Fic of the week award - thanks so much!**

**Voting is at tehlemonadestand net , if you have time between the tinsel and the turkey!**

**MERRY CHRISTMAS AND THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING!**


	21. Chapter 21

Why hello!

I know, I'm surprised, too - I thought the turkey would have me at least until New Year's, but here I am!

Written in one day, somehow...

Hope you all had a fantastic Christmas!

Mine involved a lot of present wrapping and washing up and cooking and washing up and eating and washing up...

But it was a splendid, very British occasion - I'm sorry, Southern Hemisphere, but Christmas isn't Christmas without flooding, power outages, heater malfunctions and a nice glass of mulled wine at the end of it all.

**Thanks so much to all those who reviewed!**

**I couldn't have asked for a better Christmas present than your fantastic opinions and excitement and support!**

**You're awesome!**

****Okay!

Hope you review!

**And enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>I See You - Leona Lewis<em>

_Sleeping Sun - Nightwish_

_The Islander - Nightwish_

* * *

><p>There were many thoughts that could have attacked me as I stepped into the hot stage lights. The other auditionees sitting in the audience – the Royals, Alice, Jasper, Emmett, Rosalie. The casting panel sitting behind their table with their fountain pens; Master Carlisle. Caius. Jeffrey Evans and Helen Fortescue. So many people who would now see my new dancing for the first time. And then there was what was truly at stake – Romeo and Juliet. The roles Jacob and I deserved. The roles I <em>owed <em>Jacob, for all that he had done for me. The roles that could change our whole careers.

But I didn't think of any of it.

The audience faded away, along with all the pressure.

Jacob and I didn't look at each other as I rested my hand in his and we turned to face the front.

The music started, the same as it always had.

Everything was as we had rehearsed. We walked forward perfectly in time, stepping in to each other on the beat. I brought his hand to my ribs and rose up to him. The warmth of his fingers through the thin fabric of my leotard didn't distract me. My pulse stayed level, my mind focussed.

I stayed stage left as Jacob set off on his short variation. As I stood, I made sure my arm was delicately reaching out to him without any tension. My toes needed a little more pointing, my chin raising, my leg extending – it was no different from the studio, though I missed the mirrors.

With all the thinking, it felt like a tiny amount of time before Jacob held out his hand in my direction. Without hesitation, I ran to him and spun into a tight pirouette, turning on the perfect spot for him to reach forward and turn me further. We both knew exactly how to balance me so I could stay on my pointe. He lowered to one knee and I wrapped my arm around his. Then, easily, he pulled my body across the back of his shoulders and stood.

I tightened my core a little more and made sure I kept my head from falling back. Gently, I unfolded my leg and brought it back down, then up again. _More extension, _I told myself frustratedly – it was Tanya's strong point so it had to better than hers. I lengthened my leg as it rose up into the air again, trying to stretch even further. It annoyed me as Jacob brought me down to standing that I hadn't had more of a chance to fix it, but it wasn't like we could change the choreography.

We kept going, fixing and altering as we went. But whilst I could find ten thousand things I wanted to do better, I guessed that we were looking good. Everything was flowing smoothly. Any major issues we had were now just as easy as everything else. I didn't forget a step and I certainly didn't have to cover any up. Every move was precise and I felt the satisfaction as they came off cleanly, only marred by a few issues which I knew no one else would notice.

With a step and a jump, Jacob pulled me up into the hardest lift. I went upside down, bracing myself against the back of his thigh, my legs straight up in the air. We could have stayed like that forever – it was that close to perfect. But he slipped a hand between my knees and swung me back down into his arms. It was that part again – the part when it wasn't really dancing, it was just Romeo carrying Juliet, staring into each other's eyes.

I felt a second of hesitation. A second of...discontent. And in that second, from the corner of my eye, I could see him. Standing by one of the theatre doors, the sharp plains of his face shadowed in the dim light. I could not see his eyes. Thankfully. Because I knew they were on me. And I knew...somehow I knew exactly what he was thinking. And I didn't want to know. I didn't want to know his pain and his hurt and, well...his pity.

I felt Jacob let me down. My eyes flicked back to him. He was back on one knee again, holding the thin hem of my skirt in his hand.

_I'm meant to run now. _But I stood there, my chest heaving up and down. _I have to turn...turn...Bella, focus, focus..._

And then I turned and flitted away, just like I was meant to. And then Jacob was there to sweep me from my pointes and dip me low. I was shaken, but I was in time, somehow. I remembered not to let gravity do everything as held me, and I tensed my stomach muscles and let my hands go soft and graceful. _From bottom to top, _I told myself, as I had told myself every day for almost two months. And so I went through from my toes to my crown as Jacob pulled me back up to standing, and Edward's lingering, familiar eyes gradually disappeared.

I didn't relapse.

The remainder of the dance was even better than the first part. My mind could not be taken from its task.

Right up until the very end. His arms just as strong and sure as they had been at the beginning, Jacob lifted me high above his head, my gaze on the framework and lights suspended from the ceiling, in the final lift. I didn't even let myself think it was over – I couldn't relax yet. And so my toes touched the ground again and, with the reminder to that my steps needed to be just a little longer than usual, I ran to the other side of the stage, letting one arm trail behind so that Jacob could stop me, grabbing my hand in his.

We turned to each other. And that was it.

Applause rung out through the theatre.

"Hells, Bells!" came a shout. But it wasn't Gerry or Damien; it was Emmett.

"Thank you," Helen Fortescue's voice cut through the clapping.

We hurried off stage.

"I'm so sorry!" I breathed, still puffing, as we came off. I turned to face him.

He frowned, his brow covered in sweat, "Why?"

"I – " I looked at him, realizing that he hadn't noticed my hesitation, my distraction. "I just made a mistake."

He smirked, "It wasn't perfect, Swan."

I grinned at him and launched myself into his arms, my face inches from his, "Now can we get distracted?"

"Mhmm," he smiled and pressed his lips against mine. But then he pulled back, "But not until we hear the casting."

"Ugh," I groaned. "And the solos."

"If they need to see them," Jacob nodded to the USB couple who had gone on after us. I gasped as the girl didn't quite get the grip on the guy's leg. He had to put her back down early, both of them displaying their self-doubt loud and clear on their faces. "These guys are chorus for sure," Jacob said as I turned back to him. His eyes glimmered excitedly, "And since Edward got kicked off early..."

I didn't think my grin could get any bigger.

"Alright," Helen Fortescue said as the USB audition finished. The guy had his arm slung over the girl's shoulders, defeated. "If we could have the _Force _and Colaianni partnerships on stage, thank you."

Jacob and I went out, his arm slipping around my waist as we stood there. I looked at the casting panel. They all had good poker faces. All of them except Carlisle. He looked away as my gaze met his, but I had seen his disappointment.

Maybe he was thinking that he should have tried harder to keep me at _Force; _then I wouldn't be carrying Aro Colaianni's name on the programme but _Force's _when I got Juliet.

Edward and Tanya came out a few moments later. Tanya looked grumpy and peevish, her cheeks flushed. I guessed she was finally getting her taste of what it was like to be humiliated on stage. If only the audience had been as big as the one at the Review. Edward followed her. He looked resigned, no trace of that terrifying anger from before. He didn't look at us, just stood beside Tanya, his hand resting on the small of her back.

We stood and watched, my nerves thrumming once again as the panel whispered amongst themselves. Eventually, Helen Fortescue turned back to us and leaned into the microphone, "We would now like to see Mister Black and Miss Denali perform the pas de deux from after Romeo's solo, thank you."

I looked up at Jacob, but he just nodded to the panel, slid his arm from my waist and went to meet Tanya in the centre of the stage. She had that sickly sweet smile back on her face again as she held out her hand for him to take.

I turned on my heel and went back into the wings. _Breathe, just breathe..._

But the truth was that I hadn't even considered this happening – how _could _this happen? They were from different academies and they hadn't even rehearsed together...

I took a deep breath and folded my arms across my chest, determined to stay objective. They started, and immediately I was listing all her flaws in my head. Suddenly, her extensions weren't so striking and she kept on doing this thing with her left pointer finger which became irritating to my eyes. She sickled her foot twice.

Jacob danced like he always did – as close to perfect as possible. He lifted her as easily as he lifted me, he performed his own steps with the same litheness and strength as he had ten minutes again. But still, Tanya's flaws annoyed me and I prayed fervently that they were doing the same to the casting panel. And all the while, she had that disgustingly innocent, too-cute smile on her face. I swore I saw her batting her eyelashes at one point as Jacob lifted her above his head.

But they didn't miss a beat. I felt my heart sink. Together...well, they seemed to work. They didn't quite have the same fluidity as we'd had, but I knew that with a few days of Jacob's stringent rehearsals that would all be fixed. I felt a horrible sting of jealousy as they danced across the stage. I mean, they weren't utterly in sync...but the panel had asked for _them..._

Finally, they finished. Tanya said something to Jacob but he just nodded and came back to me. _Be supportive, _I told myself. "Well done," I said quietly.

He smirked, "Thanks. But I reckon she weighs ten pounds more than you."

I grinned, "Must be all the sour grapes she's eaten."

He glanced at me amusedly then we both peeked out at the panel, who were discussing once again.

"Alright," Mrs Fortescue said. "I don't believe we will need to view the solos. And so this concludes – "

"Helen," I could faintly hear Carlisle's whispered interruption come through the mic. "Edward and Bella – you must see them."

I stiffened.

In the opposite wings, I saw Edward do the same. Our gazes met, but I quickly looked away, back to Jacob, who looked infuriated. "Jacob," I said desperately. "I don't want – "

"No," Helen Fortescue said at normal volume. "That will not be necessary, Carlisle. As I was saying, these auditions are now finished. We will now go into deliberation. The cast list will be displayed in the cafeteria sometime around dinner."

I let out a sigh of relief, "Thank God."

Jacob just nodded, "Agreed."

"It's over," I murmured, leaning against the wall. "It's out of our hands."

We met the rest of the auditioned Royals outside the theatre doors. "C'était magnifique!" Adela exclaimed. "And did you see Edward Masen? I couldn't _believe _it!"

"What was with him?" Damien said.

Jacob smirked, slinging his arm around my shoulders, "I think he just got a little shock."

Robbie looked between us, "You guys did something...?"

I laughed, "Unintentionally, I swear!"

"_Right," _Leah scoffed.

Jacob just kept grinning, "Don't look so pissed, Leah – seeing as the person who could have easily beaten you didn't even want the role, you have a really good chance of being the Nurse!"

She glared at him, then turned to me. "Well," she said curtly. "At least it looks like I'll be Tanya Denali's nurse, not yours." Leah smiled at Jacob, "Well done for jumping into bed with _Force. _Twice. Gotta wonder just where your allegiance lies, huh?"

"Oh please," Robbie said. "Bella is more Aro's than you, Leah. And dancing with someone doesn't mean you're sleeping with them unless it's with _you."_

"Bella?" I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I turned my back on the increasingly tense situation to see Alice smiling at me, her amazing skirt now folded safely over her arm. "You were really good," she said, giving me a quick hug. "Your technique was perfect."

"Thanks," I said.

Jasper stepped in behind her, resting his hands on her petite shoulders, "Well done, Bella." It was odd – he sounded...politer than he'd used to. "Flawless."

"You guys were amazing," I said, trying to dispel the awkwardness that I wasn't sure they could feel. "That skirt, Alice..."

"Oh," she said with a smile, trailing her fingers along the lace. "Well, you know what they say; they call you by what you wear, not your name. I figured 'scary black and red lace girl' was better than 'black leotard number twenty-eight'."

I laughed, "Makes sense."

"So," she said, drumming her fingers on the fabric now. "Are you and Jacob, um?"

"He's my boyfriend," I said politely, trying to keep anything unpleasant out of my voice.

"Great," she said, nodding. "I'm glad you found someone."

Jasper seemed to have noticed something behind me. "Ali, we should probably get going."

She seemed to see it, too, and gave me a quick smile, "Yeah, got to find out where our rooms are and unpack my wardrobe and everything."

"See you later," I said. I watched as they headed through the crowd and out into the courtyard. I wasn't surprised that it was Edward who was standing out there in the cold. Alice gave him a hug but he didn't seem to respond.

I shook my head and focussed back in on the conversation. I didn't want to know how Edward felt when I already knew how he'd made me feel. That was all I needed to know.

\*\*/*/

With so much time to spare for the first time since I'd started training with Jacob, I joined the rest of the Royals as we went back to change for dinner. Bridget, Danny and Amanda were all still in Corps rehearsals, but everyone else walked back down the street together. "You know as soon as you get Juliet you'll be back in rehearsals," Damien said to me.

"I know," I said. "I am going to use these two hours wisely. I have a _lot _of schoolwork to catch up on."

We passed the Class C and B houses, looking at the USB and _Force _students moving in their suitcases from the busses. The other students had been relocated in a motel until Spring break.

"Why don't these guys stay in the motels?" I asked Damien as we watched a USB girl dragging two suitcases into the Class C house. "Why force out our own?"

"Caius wants to prove that Aro's is a better host school that _Force," _he explained. "It's become almost exclusively hosted at _Force _in recent years, because they have so much more space than us or USB."

"It's still in the middle of nowhere, though," I remarked. "Ticket sales couldn't have been that great?"

Damien shook his head, "You know their theatre – even Jacob couldn't possibly deny that it's a masterpiece. People will travel there just to sit below the words of Marcus Vigernon."

I remembered those words, scripted in beautiful calligraphy around the massive chandelier. Where traditionally there should have been a painted sky of puffy white clouds and cherubs, there were just the words:

_Do not look up, my friends, but forward, for it is upon my stage that you shall gain a glimpse of the heavens._

I guessed that Marcus Vigernon had had a lot of faith in his students. More than the school's current headmaster.

"We've got a full house for opening night, though," Damien said.

"What? How?"

He shrugged, "They start marketing early. Tickets have been on sale for months."

"Better make sure Caius bought you one for understudy," Leah sung, walking past us through the garden gate and into the house.

I sighed and followed her in.

Upstairs, I quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a tank top then flopped down on my bed.

\*\*/*/

My eyes flickered open drowsily to find that the sun had gone down and the sky was darkening, making the room pale and grey. I felt the alarms in my mind go off, telling me to get up, that I shouldn't have even been asleep in the first place, and yet I couldn't quite convince my limbs to move. I was so _tired. _

"Come on," I muttered to myself. "Up..."

Slowly, I rose and went to the bathroom, splashing some water on my face and then fixed my makeup, putting on some more blusher and then pulling the painful hairpins out of my bun, letting my hair down so it would keep some of my ashen face in shadow.

The house was silent as I left. It was almost dinner. Jacob would probably have woken me up, but I didn't think he'd even come home with us – he'd had something to attend to before he left school.

I tried to get the cool air to wake me up as I walked back to the academy, but still my eyes drooped. The reception was empty – everyone was clearly at dinner. I didn't walk through the courtyard, instead opting for the longer option of going through the corridors in the vain hope that sometime between here and there I would become coherent.

There was still no luck as I rounded the last corner.

"I just need a few more days to settle some things." I halted, seeing Edward standing outside the cafeteria doors, phone against his ear. "I know, give him my apologies..." he spotted me and frowned, looking me up and down as he spoke. "I know. Thank you, Clara. Yes, me too. Bye." He slipped his phone back into his pocket and looked to me. "You look terrible."

I let out a laugh, "Wow. How kind."

He sighed, "I didn't mean – "

"No, please," my tiredness had made me ratty. I walked toward him, stopping two feet away, "I would love to know what you think of me."

"I take it you mean your dancing?"

I rolled my eyes, "No, my badminton playing."

He laughed, and I felt a little twitch of pain in my chest at that sound. Familiar, too. "Your technique was good."

"Seriously?" I exclaimed. "Is that all anyone from _Force _is going to say? All you're going to say?"

He gave me a look. A cautious look.

"Cut the crap," I snapped. "I know you're not into honesty, but I'm a big girl now; tell me what you thought of my dancing."

"Honesty?" he said with a surprised smile, "Because you've always been so honest with me, Bella."

I huffed and made to walk past him. "Fine," he said, stopping me. "If you really want to know." His emerald eyes burned into my own, unforgiving. His voice was quiet, "I never thought that anyone could dance more soullessly than Tanya." He gazed at me, and I saw that hint of sadness, "But you proved me wrong."

I glared at him. Stupidly, I hadn't expected his harshness, but his words cut me painfully. "Fine," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady, "I guess I'll prove you wrong again when the cast list goes up."

"You know Tanya will get it."

I raised my eyebrows, "Seriously? You think you two will get it even though you didn't even finish?"

He shook his head, "You know what I mean, Bella. Jacob and Tanya will get it and you will be stuck in the audience with me, where we belong."

"How selfless of you," I snapped, though I knew that deep down I was afraid his words were true.

Edward rolled his eyes, "I should be Romeo, Bella. But I got distracted," he stepped closer to me, "I lost _focus."_

I looked up sharply at him. He smirked, "You don't think I know how he's taught you, Bella? _'You will never achieve perfection, but you will spend your whole life trying?' _That was my mantra once, too."

It was eerie – hearing those same words from Edward. He smiled further at my chagrin.

I gathered myself, "Whatever, Edward. I don't care what you know. The fact is that he taught me how to be a great dancer and you kept that knowledge to yourself."

He shook his head, looking at me, "You don't understand, Bella. All of Monsieur Repin's teaching was completely wrong."

"Right," I scoffed. "I was in First Year at Force and now I'm the second best Royal here, in the most prestigious Summer Intensive in the US, with Jacob Black as my partner, having clearly just beaten you." I smiled, "It seems pretty right to me, Edward."

He just shook his head, "It's wrong because I _have_ achieved perfection."

I laughed, "Right, because today's show just looked so – "

He closed the final foot between us, "You misunderstand me, Bella," his voice was suddenly soft, intoxicating. I felt my breath go shallow, my heart slowing. His fingers brushed down the side of my face, leaving a burning line in their wake. "I have achieved perfection," he repeated, leaning in, his fingers threading into my hair. Gently, his lips brushed my cheek. I felt a shiver run down my spine. His scent, so, so familiar, swirling around me. My breath shook as he whispered in my ear, "With you."

He pulled back, but only an inch. Our noses almost touched. His fingers lingered in my hair, cupping my neck, and for a second I forgot all that had passed. It was just us. His gaze went cautiously from my eyes to my lips, which already ached for his own. I hardly noticed my hand as it brushed against his, as somehow it curled into his palm, enveloped in its warmth. My eyes were hooded as I looked at his perfect, strong mouth. As I seemed to lean forward ever so slightly. As his fingers tightened around my own. As my breath mixed with his. As we seemed to come closer, and closer...

"Carlisle, this is final," we both spun around as the sound of clicking heels filled the corridor. "You've already had your way once. We've compromised."

I tore my hand from Edward's, blood rushing angrily to my cheeks. "Don't ever do that again!" I hissed, not able to look at him.

"It is ridiculous," Carlisle said as he and Helen Fortescue both emerged from the stairwell.

"It's final," she said again as she passed us. I saw the piece of paper in her hands. _That_ piece of paper. The one.

Carlisle sighed, pausing by us. He looked at me, "Congratulations, Bella."

It took a split second for my mouth to drop open, then I was bursting through the cafeteria doors, pushing past the crowd forming around the notice board.

As soon as Mrs Fortescue stepped away, I looked at the freshly printed typing.

_Romeo: Jacob Black_

_Juliet: Bella Swan_

* * *

><p><em><em>Hehehe...well, I daresay we shall all have our opinions on this one!

**Please tell me your thoughts - I am very interested!**

I hope to update as soon as possible (a few days at most!) - the relatives are gone so the obscenely large scale meals (and washing up) are over and I have lots of time!

**Thanks so much for all your support this year - it's been a wild ride and I couldn't have done it without you!**

**HAPPY NEW YEAR!**


	22. Chapter 22

__Happy New Year!

Doesn't quite have the same ring as 2012 but I'm sure it will be epic! Hope you have a good one!

So sorry it took me this long to update!

**Thank you so much if you sent a review!**

**Your opinions and support are just amazing! Thanks :D**

Another half-chapter...sorry!

**But still, please review!**

**And enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Juliet: Bella Swan<em>

_Juliet: Bella Swan_

_Juliet...Bella Swan..._

_Juliet...me..._

I just stared at those three words. A challenging, competitive, impossible, once-in-a-lifetime role...and my name beside it.

Abruptly, I was shunted out of the way as everyone else swarmed to see that sacred piece of paper. I turned around, ignoring the crowd. There was only one person I was interested in seeing right now...

And there he was, walking in the cafeteria doors, his eyes set on the notice board.

"Jacob!" I shouted, then in a second I was running to him, throwing my arms round his neck. "We did it!" I squealed. "We got it!"

He stared at me for a split second, disbelief in those beautiful eyes, his hands frozen on my hips, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I whispered, hardly able to contain myself.

And then he was lifting me up, my ankles locking behind his back and our mouths meeting as we laughed. "You're amazing," I whispered to him, unable to stop grinning. "_We're _amazing!"

"Mmhm," he agreed, putting me back down. "Oh, and Bella?"

I looked up at him happily.

He smirked at me, "I told you so."

I laughed, knowing exactly what he meant; I hadn't really believed for the first month at least that there was any real chance of me getting Juliet. And yet...here I stood; Juliet Capulet of the NFSI. Principal dancer.

"_I can guarantee that before these eight weeks are up, you _will_ have that Juliet role as your own."_

I shook my head in awe, "I don't know how you did it."

"I know how he did it," came a voice from behind us.

With a roll of my eyes to Jacob, we both turned to face Tanya. Tears sparkled on her cheeks – perfectly melodramatic. But I wasn't in the mood for sympathy, and her glaring eyes told me she wasn't looking for any. She pushed past me, then slammed her hands against Jacob's chest, "You backstabbing, egotistical, stupid bastard!"

"Woah!" Jacob said amusedly, putting his hands up in surrender. The cafeteria's volume dropped as people turned to watch. "Calm down, Denali."

"Don't you dare be like that!" she went on, prodding him. "Don't you dare – "

"Sweetheart," Jacob abruptly put his hands on her shoulders, stopping her onslaught. He gave her a hard stare. "We only danced together _once, _and it wasn't that amazing. You weren't strong enough. Your fault, not mine. Bella's just better than you." He shot me a smirk, "That's not my fault, either."

She glared at him, then started off on another round of shoves, "You arrogant, pompous little sh – "

"Tanya." A hand shot out and grabbed her wrist just before she hit Jacob again.

We all looked as Edward stepped in, his eyes focussed only on Tanya, who glared at him, "Stop making a scene."

She looked him up and down, new tears glimmering in her bitter eyes, "Don't _you," _she said quietly. "Tell _me_ not to make a scene." And then her voice was up again, along with her fists, except this time they were hitting Edward. "How the Hell could you do this to me? Why do you have to be so pathetic!?"

"Tanya," he said again, catching her hands again and holding them firmly this time as the tears slipped down her cheeks. "We lost," he said quietly, conscious that the whole cast was listening. His eyes commanded her attention, "We lost and there is nothing you can do about it so do_ not _make things worse for yourself. Right now everyone in here will be thinking that you're acting like a sore loser, not the professional dancer you're meant to be."

She glared at him, but I could see the fight had gone out of her. She snatched her hands away, "At least I was the professional dancer when we _needed _to be." And with that, she stalked off, leaving Edward to face Jacob and me with everyone else looking on.

"Wow, Ed," Jacob drawled, "You sure have great control over your women." He folded his arms and cocked his head, "Though, of course, there are so many of them..."

"Right," Edward said disdainfully. "And where's Leah right now?"

I stiffened, but Jacob didn't seem fazed, "Leah and I had an open relationship, and even then neither of us _cheated."_

Emmett plundered forwards out of the crowd then to tower over Jacob, "Just what are you insinuating, Black?"

"Emmett," Edward said warningly, but Jacob had caught on.

He looked between the two with laughter in his eyes, "Wait – they don't know?" His voice was loud enough for everyone to hear, "You didn't tell them what you and Denali got up to whilst Bella was crying over your break up?"

"Jacob," I said quietly. This was getting too close for comfort.

"Dude," Emmett said, turning to Edward. "He's not – "

"I'm completely serious, Cullen," Jacob said.

"Yeah," Gerry said, stepping up with the rest of the Royals. "Bella told us everything. It's true."

Jasper and Rosalie came forward, ignoring Alice's pleas to keep back. I guessed that she was the only one who knew – and that was only because I had told her. "Bella," Jasper said, his brow furrowed. Always the fair one. "Is this true? Did Edward cheat on you?"

"It's not cheating," Rosalie snapped at her brother. "It was _after _they'd broken up."

"_Minutes _after," Jacob corrected.

She shrugged uncaringly, pouting her red painted lips, "It's not cheating."

Emmett rolled his eyes, "Rose, seriously..." he looked to me, his eyes willing me to tell the truth, "Is it true, Bella?"

I blinked and looked away.

_They were chest to chest, their faces plastered to each other, Tanya's bare leg hitched over his hip, his hand on her thigh..._

_"Oh my God!" I choked, then turned around and ran._

"_Bella!"_

The pain of that memory tore at my heart once again. I looked up at Edward. He looked back, his expression resigned and sad. I knew he was reliving that memory, too. He nodded, as if to say it was okay. _As if I need his permission! _Part of me thought angrily. But I knew that another part of me didn't want to hurt him..._a stupid part of me..._but either way, he wanted me to tell them. "He did," I whispered.

Jasper then looked to Edward for confirmation, "Do you agree?"

Edward just looked at me with that same blank, still expression, "Tanya came onto me and I didn't stop her."

I wished, somehow, that he'd denied it. That there was some kind of bizarre but truthful explanation...but there it was; the confirmation of all that I had cried over.

Jasper gave me a solemn nod, then turned and went back to Alice. I guessed they would go somewhere and talk it out – I knew they didn't keep a lot of secrets between each other.

Emmett just gaped at Edward, coming to grips with it. It was odd, the way that, after the initial shock, there was just...disappointment in Emmett's face. His usually booming voice was quiet, remorseful, "Too far, Edward."

Rosalie, though, was no surprise at all. With a pleasant, cold smile, she stepped toward him and gave him a resounding slap across the cheek. The Royals stared at her, confused. She gave another shrug, "I said it wasn't cheating; not that it wasn't a bastardly thing to do."

And then she grabbed Emmett's hand and led him away, and Edward stood alone against us. He just looked at me. Everyone could see that enough had been said. But Jacob...well, he was merciless, "Bravo, Ed. Can't control your friends, either."

Edward's jaw twitched. I saw the anger flame in his eyes. But then he just looked back to me and said, "I know I've hurt you, Bella. We can both agree that what I've done is unforgivable, and I don't want to you to have any more pain." His voice turned bitter as he looked at Jacob, "So don't let _him _in, because he will hurt you just as much as I have."

"Why should I listen to you?" I muttered.

Edward kept his unforgiving eyes on Jacob, "Just ask your boyfriend _why _he hates me so much."

I watched as he left, passing by the remains of the _Force _students and the shocked USB people before walking out into the dark courtyard. I heard my heart thudding in my ears, felt a deep ache in my chest which I didn't want to exist.

"What a dick," I heard Damien say.

"Prat," Bridget added. "Oh well, at least we won't have to see him much."

"And why is that?" Jacob asked, grinning.

"Because you guys are Romeo and Juliet!" Danny squealed, then threw her arms around the both of us, followed by all the other Royals.

I tried to laugh with them as we sat down at our usual table, but all I felt was...brokenness. The smile on my face felt like moulded plastic as they chattered about the roles everyone had got. Gerry was Tybalt, but Seth had missed out on Mercutio. He didn't exactly look happy, either, sitting back with his arms folded, every so often giving Gerry an angry look. There hadn't been much chance anyway, though; Emmett had been fantastic. Leah, by pure fluke, had managed to get the role of Nurse. Paul got Benvolio, making our grand total of five roles in the main cast. This was one more than _Force – _Jasper and Alice had, of course, gotten Lord and Lady Capulet, and the Prince of Verona had gone to another Third Year.

The USB only won two roles – Paris and Friar Laurence. I guessed their colourful jumpsuits hadn't paid off.

"We beat them," Adela said contentedly. "All of them."

As everyone else clapped and hooted, I just tried not to bolt. Everything felt so suffocating.

Jacob leaned over, "We should start rehearsing, Bella."

I nodded, wanting any excuse to leave.

We didn't speak as we walked down the corridor and up the stairs. "Jacob..." I began as we entered our studio. "Did you have to let the whole world know about him cheating?"

"You don't think he deserves it?" Jacob asked with a frown, throwing down his bag and shaking his arms out.

"I do," I said carefully. "But it wasn't just him...I mean, it was kind of embarrassing for me – I fell for him, remember? I _let _him cheat on me. I didn't see it coming."

He nodded, "And so you think that everyone will pity you."

"Yeah," I said, relieved he understood. I pulled off my jeans, revealing my tights and leotard – I couldn't remember the last time, aside from in bed, that I hadn't been wearing ballet gear. I began tying on my pointes, ignoring the pain in my toes as they squeezed once more into the hardened layers of fabric and paper.

"Bella, no one's going to pity you," Jacob said, snapping his stirrup tights under his heels. "You just got Juliet – you're the principal dancer. Everyone knows we beat Tanya and Edward – we're above them now. We're above everyone now. Besides, you weren't the one who walked out of the room – you stood your ground."

"I got the sense he'd said all he wanted to say," I muttered. "It wasn't like he was running away. And I just stood there gormlessly."

Jacob sighed, putting down his slipper, "Bella, just cut the crap and ask."

I raised my eyebrow at him, "Ask what?"

He raised his eyebrow back at me, "Don't act like you weren't hanging off every word he said."

I shook my head, focussing back on tying up my pointe shoes, "I'm not going to ask you anything, Jacob." I couldn't help but grin, knowing he was looking at me in surprise. "Edward's trying to drive a wedge between us," I said, standing up and checking the ribbon tightness. "I'm not going to let that happen. He's _not _going to distract me." I pushed the tips of my toes into the ground painfully, trying to expel the memory of our almost-kiss in the corridor. _His _almost-kiss. Jacob was still silent. I caught him smirking in the mirror. "Unless you've murdered someone," I amended. "That might be important."

He laughed and took off his Colaianni sweater, "Well, I'm going to kill Tybalt a lot of times in the next three weeks, but no, not yet."

"Poor Gerry," I murmured, going to the barre.

"Poor _me," _Jacob said. "I'm the one who has to act like I'm Cullen's best friend."

"I have to act like _Leah _is my best friend."

"I have to grovel at Dwarf-Girl's feet for forgiveness."

"Dwarf-Girl?" I repeated, stretching.

He smirked, "Brandon – who else?"

I swallowed and started my pliés, letting my mind sink into the moves and forget all my worries about Alice, Emmett, Jasper, Rosalie, Tanya...and Edward...

\*\*/*/

"Romeo and Juliet," Carlisle was saying as Jacob and I slipped into the main studio the next morning. My uneaten breakfast muffin was somewhere in my bag, and my hand was surreptitiously holding an extra large, steaming cup of coffee. "Is an incredibly choreographed ballet, but very challenging..."

The whole cast was sitting on the floor or standing by the barres, the leotards a colourful display of the star-spangled banner, black and, of course, deep red. Everyone looked at us as we silently went to stand with the Royals. Bridget gave me a questioning look. I shrugged – we'd decided to motorbike to Pike Street for coffee in celebration of our success and the queue had been huge. I was in serious need of caffeine, though, so we'd waited it out, knowing that the first part of rehearsal would just be another round of 'And the bathrooms are down the corridor on the right'. _Besides, _I reasoned, _five minutes late isn't really _late...

"However, students," Carlisle continued as I sipped my coffee. "I am sorry to inform you that the story might not quite be so exciting since it seems our Romeo and Juliet probably won't turn up at the theatre until Act Two." Carlisle looked at us both pointedly. "I know you're not accustomed to my rules, Mister Black, but Miss Swan, at least, should know that tardiness is not an option in my studio."

I blushed, "Sorry sir."

But he wasn't finished, "And I'm afraid, Caius, that you may need organise a coffee cup for Juliet to hold during the death scene as we seem to have forgotten that Starbucks was in existence in fifteenth century Italy." There was laughter from everyone except the Royals, though I caught Danny, a couple of seconds behind everyone else, cracking up. Carlisle looked at me, "Or maybe Miss Swan has just forgotten that food and drink is not allowed in _any _studio or stage?"

"Sorry, sir," I repeated. Caius gave me a hard stare, telling me to lose the coffee. I quickly shoved it behind my bag, knowing that by the time I'd get round to drinking it, it would be stone cold. I had gotten to bed at midnight after rehearsal with Jacob and I'd been up at four thirty. That coffee was all that was between me and falling asleep whilst Jacob was holding me eight feet in the air.

"Let me make this clear from the beginning," Carlisle said to everyone, clasping his hands behind his back. "We are on an _incredibly _tight schedule. In a week's time, we will be in the McCaw Hall, doing our final dress rehearsals in costumes that have yet to be fitted and finished, using sets and props that aren't complete yet. I have absolute faith that those things will be complete by then. But none of that will matter if _you, _the dancers, the actors – the performers, are not ready."

He scanned the cast, looking at each of us in turn. "You have a week to know all your choreography. To know your cues. To know your character. The corps de ballet – you have a week to be totally in sync with each other. Soloists – you have a week to perfect your solos and make them stand out, regardless of whether you have one or ten. Principals," he looked to us, "And understudies," I didn't like the add-on, but I kept my eyes on Carlisle – I wasn't going to even think of them. "You have a week to become a young couple who are madly in love, and showing that through flawless technique in both solos and those famous, taxing pas de deuxs."

He addressed the whole group again, "There is such a short amount of time to get all of this ready. One _week. _Consequently, it is of vital importance that you are, at all times, focussed and alert. None of us," he gestured to the teachers behind him, "Will have time to repeat a single sentence. None of us will have time to take you aside and discuss your actions. So that means you must be disciplined. That means no talking, that means no day dreaming, that means no complaining."

Carlisle looked at Jacob and me, "That means no lateness. Most professional companies take months to perfect this production – you are just a group of teenagers and you have a _lot _to prove."

I glanced in the mirrors, seeing everyone's faces wrapped up in what he was saying, some nodding along. Except for Emmett, who was staring out the window – I wondered if his father gave him these talks on a daily basis – and Jacob, who was picking at a thread in his shoes.

"One week, ladies and gentlemen," Carlisle said, unclasping his hands. "Every minutes counts." He clapped his hands, "Now, to the barre!"

In a flash, everyone was up, pushing away their bags and pulling on the three portable barres. There were fifty of us; we would need the extra room.

"We need the mirror," Jacob muttered to me and so we quickly stood and immediately headed for the front end of the central and right portable barres. There was a USB girl standing at the end of the centre one.

"Sorry," I said apologetically, putting my hand in front of hers. "Do you mind?"

The girl blushed and shook her head, "It's okay."

I let out a breath as she moved. That had been easy. Jacob had been right; we really were above everyone.

I felt eyes on me. I knew whose they were before I even looked. Edward stood at the front of the left barre – I guessed he'd had the same idea as us. He gazed at me studiously, and I knew he was trying to see whether Jacob had told me whatever huge thing it was that had led them to hating each other. I gave him a curt smile. _You're not getting to me that easily, Edward, _I thought contentedly as he frowned, and then I turned to the front, just in time for the piano to begin.

"Alright," Master Carlisle said. "Plié combination – two demis, one grande, front port de bras, back arch. Six seven and one..."

Jacob, Edward and I all sunk down into a plié, our right hands floating up, our feet turned out, our knees bending. I let out a long breath through my nose as I came back up, fixing things here and there. But I was distracted – there was something to marvel at; Edward Masen and Jacob Black together in one room.

The two greatest danseurs in America standing on either side of me, performing the exact same exercises as each other. Sworn enemies, and yet so similar as they rose up into an arabesque, both with sumptuous extensions and magnificent strength. Their chests were high, their chins raised, one hand outstretched in front of them. They stayed perfectly balanced, though they stood only on the ball of one foot. Their back legs were both raised at ninety degrees, strong, toes pointed. Both were focussed solely on the mirrors, their eyes watching their bodies.

But that, I suppose, was where the difference lay. I watched Jacob pivot slightly on his toes, his eyes travelling up from there to his ankles and knees. I caught the tiny changes he made – I was so used to them. But Edward was different. His eyes travelled swiftly up from his limbs, and then he met his own gaze, staring at himself. It was then that I noticed his toes pointing a little more or his pointer finger lifting a little more.

"And hands off," Carlisle said, strolling between the rows. "Let's see how we balance."

With ease, the two of them, both seeming to take in a calming breath, lifted their hands from the barre, raising them above their heads to form an oval with their other arm.

"We don't have all day, Bella," Vicky muttered as she walked past me. Blinking, I quickly took my own hand off the barre and tried to balance. I wasn't even on pointe – just tip toes. But that didn't seem to make much difference as I wobbled. It was a matter of seconds before my heel touched the floor again and my hand grabbed the barre. Fortunately, I was the same as three quarters of the cast. I was content to watch, though; Edward and Jacob were still up, both of them utterly focussed.

It wasn't long before the final few people went down. To my dismay, Tanya was the last. She shot me one of those smiles from behind Edward. I rolled my eyes and looked away.

We all watched them both, legs still perfectly straight, arms still in two symmetrical ovals.

Carlisle came to stand in front of the two, his arms folded, eyes flicking interestedly between the two dancers.

I could see the sweat beading on Jacob's forehead. But, then, I could also hear Edward's tight breath. Both had their brows knitted in concentration and neither was willingly going to be the first to break.

Carlisle smiled, "Will you concede a tie, gentlemen?"

"Not a chance," Jacob grunted, forcing a smirk onto his lips. "It won't take long, eh, Ed?"

"Probably not," Edward replied evenly, his gaze not even wavering.

"Tired?" Jacob cajoled a little breathlessly. "I have always been fitter than you."

Edward's eyebrow lifted ever so slightly, not looking away from his reflection, "Your leg's not straight."

Jacob's gaze shifted from his spot for a split second, and it was enough to set him off balance. His heel came down with a thud. "You distracted me!" Jacob snapped. "Cheat."

Edward brought himself down into a graceful plié, a glint in his eye, "Hypocrite."

I caught a glimpse, then, of something I guessed had long passed; the banter between two best friends. Two brothers who had known each other very well. But of course now every word was laced with bitterness. My mind strayed where it shouldn't have; the question I refused to ask. I wondered just what had happened for the two of them to hate each other so much. I knew it had something to their first NFSI – I had the vague memory of Alice telling me that that was when they'd fallen out.

_But it doesn't matter, _I told myself firmly. I didn't want to know what the story was. I already knew enough. I knew what Edward had done to me. And I knew that it was Jacob who had taken me out of that stupid, pathetic despair and made me into the dancer I was. I didn't want a part in Edward's drama with Jacob; I just wanted to forget him altogether.

* * *

><p>I know; half chapter...but that means that the next half will be out really soon!<p>

I'm so sorry for taking so long - I _was _writing but I was scheming. I now have the rest of the plot stowed away on my laptop (where you can't read it :D)...and it took a while to get it all together - secrets and dramatic pas de deuxs take time! Many tea bags were executed in the process. And a lot of Christmas cake. But it was worth it and hopefully there won't be any more delays. Still; sorry!

**Please review and let me know your thoughts! See you in...48 hours, shall we say?**

**Thanks for reading!**


	23. Chapter 23

So sorry it wasn't 48 hours...

Hehe, jokes! So happy to be giving this to you almost 24 hours early!

Woohoo!

**Thanks so much to those of you who were reviewing over the past 24 hours - made a big difference to my speed!**

**Hope you enjoy this one because you guys certainly helped to write it!**

**Particularly if you're Rosabell74, who had a grievous injury when she saw the update...hope your head's okay!**

****Okay! Time to sleep and do it all over again tomorrow (hopefully)!

Hope you review!

And enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>My Love is Always There - Alexandre Desplat (From the Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows soundtrack)<em>

_Sanctus - Faure (It doesn't get much better than a version of Faure's Requiem with decent Tenors...sigh...)_

_O, Magnum Mysterium - Morten Lauridsen (yes, I'm repeating myself but it, along with My Love is Always There, was very fitting in a very sad way)_

* * *

><p>But, as class wrapped up and rehearsals began, I realized that forgetting Edward was going to be difficult.<p>

In my fantasies of Jacob and I dancing Romeo and Juliet, I hadn't imagined Edward and Tanya in the background. But they were.

"Alright," Carlisle said. "Corps in here for the opening scene, Mercutio and Benvolio with Victoria, principals with Mrs Fortescue and me."

Jacob and I went to grab our bags. "Excuse me," I said to some girl standing on my bag strap. She stepped away. I looked up. "You," I said, anger flaming as I realized that it was Lauren Mallory.

"Sorry," she said blankly and made to move away.

"Excuse me?" I said incredulously, straightening back up. Jacob looked at me questioningly. "You're just gonna act like nothing happened?"

Lauren turned back around. "I stood on your bag strap," she said tiredly. "Nothing did happen."

I stared at that poky little face which had caused me so much trouble in the past. She looked tired – almost as tired as I felt. And...the fire had gone out of her eyes. That wasn't going to stop me, though. "You stole Ben away from Angela," I hissed, backing her up against the barre. "You destroyed their relationship. Why? What stupid scheme was it this time?"

"I didn't intend to," she said, her voice still quiet and blank. "It just happened."

"_That _doesn't just happen," I continued, though her lack of reaction confused me. "Ben and Angela were made for each other and you had no right to get between them. I'm not going to _let _you get between them."

Finally, she let out a little laugh, though even that sounded lifeless, "You act like your Angela's best friend and guardian angel and shit, Bella, but if you actually were then you would know that a week after they broke up, I called her and I apologized and told her everything."

"Lies, no doubt," I scoffed.

She shook her head, "No, Bella. And she forgave me. She has no issue with me."

"That's ridiculous," I snapped. "When she visited me..." I tried to remember her being angry at Lauren, but all her anger had been directed at me. And that email...well, it had been sent within the week of their break up. All she'd said was _"If you'd read one of those emails, you would know that Ben broke up with me to be with Lauren."_

No, I realized; she hadn't seemed angry at Lauren. She was sad about it...

But it made no sense; Lauren was a bitch and we all knew it. But, I guessed, Angela did always see the best in people.

"I don't buy it," I said quietly. "And when I find out what happened, I will make sure you regret it."

The old Lauren would have had some snarky retort, yet now she just looked down and walked away.

"Who is she?" Jacob said, staring after her.

"Ugh," I muttered, pushing her from my mind. "Who cares; let's go."

Jacob and I grabbed our bags and followed Carlisle out into the corridor. Edward and Tanya came out a moment later, Tanya complaining to Edward about how her bulk order of pointe shoes was now totally unnecessary. She hadn't exactly relented after last night's standoff.

I shook my head to clear it and slipped my hand into Jacob's. _Ignore them._

Carlisle ushered us into one of the studios. "Alright," he said once we were all standing in front of him. Helen Fortescue sat in one of the chair in front of the mirrors, studying us.

"I'm going to cover a lot in the next few hours. There are four pas de deuxs between Romeo and Juliet and the choreography for every single one must be completely sorted out by the end of the day. The first is their meeting – relatively simple. The second is the Balcony Scene which, of course, you already know. The third is their bedroom scene after their first night together" – I blushed crimson, even though I knew that all I needed was experience in _ballet..._not the other thing... – "And the last one is the hardest of all; the death scene. So," he rubbed his hands together. "Tanya and Edward in the back, Bella and Jacob front – let's begin."

For once, I wished there wasn't a mirror. Even if they were behind us, I could hear them and _see _them as Carlisle brushed over the first section of choreography. He worked at lightning speed whilst we fumbled along behind him, marking out the moves he showed. But behind _us, _Edward and Tanya seemed to be going much better. I watched with annoyance as Edward easily lifted Tanya above his head, holding one of her legs up.

"Up, Bella," Jacob muttered to me as he tried to lift, but I wasn't tense enough and ended up just being dead weight. I heard Tanya snickering as Jacob sighed and put me down again.

"And then you bring her down to rest on your shoulder," Carlisle continued, miming holding Juliet up. "The leg should be tucked. And then run in a circle..."

The commands went on and on and on. The choreography felt endless. "Okay," Carlisle said finally, turning to face us. "Let's run it. Tanya and Edward – if you'd like to take a break."

I felt a huge sense of relief as they reluctantly went to the side to watch us. We were still the leads; they were just understudies. But then I realized that we were _running _the piece – I didn't even know the choreography.

My mind felt utterly blank as the music started. It was like turning up for an English exam and not having read the book. I just had...no idea...

"Alright, run to each other," Carlisle instructed. I did as he said, but felt utterly insecure. "Bella step back into arabesque." Jacob seemed to know what he was doing and wrapped his arm around my waist, our chests touching. "And the hands..."

I just looked at Carlisle. _What _with my hands? "In front of his eyes, Bella," he said. I saw Tanya standing chest to chest with Edward, drawing her hands between their faces. They were marking it out, I realized – not dancing, but just taking a physical note of each move. Quickly, I copied her, watching out of the corner of my eye as she drew her hands away again to reveal his face. Edward had his arm around her waist and was watching her intently with that concentration I knew so well.

_Damn them, _I thought bitterly as we kept going and I found myself continually having to glance at Tanya to find out what the Hell I was doing.

"Alright, alight," Carlisle said as I made a complete mess of the little solo allegro section. It was too fast to look at Tanya. "Stop." He took a breath and painstakingly showed me again what I was meant to do. Jacob stood and watched, hands on his hips. "Do it for me again," Carlisle said.

With a blush, I started, trying to get the intricate footwork to actually _reach _my feet.

"It – " Carlisle began.

"It's a pique, Bella," Jacob cut in. "Two beats, then a pique."

Carlisle turned to him, eyebrows raised, "Thank you, Mister Black."

Jacob gave him an unforgiving smile, "Perhaps this would be easier if Bella and I rehearsed alone now that we've got the choreography."

Tanya gaped, but Edward just rolled his eyes knowingly. I was used to Jacob's forwardness, too, but against Carlisle Cullen? Oh, he was brave.

Carlisle just gazed at Jacob, "You think that that would be a good idea, Mister Black?"

"Yes," Jacob said staunchly. "It's gotten us this far."

Master Carlisle just smiled and folded his arms, "You don't understand, Jacob, that _'this far' _couldn't be further away from where I expect my principal dancers to be."

I froze. If I had respected Carlisle as much as I once had, my confidence would have crumbled to the ground completely. Even so, this was _not _what I wanted to hear after an hour of looking to Tanya Denali for the steps.

Carlisle ignored our expressions and continued, "Whilst I clearly instructed all the teachers that they were to at least go over all the pas de deuxs, it is clear that Caius allowed you to focus solely on your audition piece." So _that _was why Edward and Tanya were remembering this so easily – they'd already looked at it. Carlisle frowned, "Of course, what is even more concerning is the fact that neither of you have a clue as to the expression of these pieces." He looked at me bluntly, "The emotion, Miss Swan. Something I believe you used to have quite a talent in."

I glanced at Edward only to meet his gaze. We were both remembering his words from last night; _"I never thought that anyone could dance more soullessly than Tanya. But you proved me wrong."_

"Oh, come now, Carlisle," Helen Fortescue spoke for the first time, standing up and fastening the button of her grey business suit. "It's their first day and they're still learning the choreography. You can throw on all your silly emotional bells and whistles at the end," she looked at Jacob and me with a polite smile, "but right now all I care about is getting that sublime technique back."

Carlisle frowned, staring at her.

She laughed, "Oh, Carlisle, don't look so surprised. Tanya was better for publicity but, Miss Swan, you really do have fantastic technique." Mrs Fortescue patted Carlisle on the shoulder patronizingly. I saw the discomfort in his eyes, and realized we were standing in the middle of a political dispute. Of course; the publicity and money-minded overseer and the artistic director – they were never exactly meant to get along. Helen Fortescue gave him another smile, "You made your decision, Carlisle, and I'm going to run with it."

"Your _decision?" _Tanya repeated, folding her skinny arms across her chest.

Carlisle opened his mouth, but Mrs Fortescue turned quickly to Tanya, "Your headmaster convinced the panel to choose Miss Swan here over you for the role of Juliet."

"What?" Tanya exclaimed, stepping forward. "So it's your fault!" Edward pulled her back and she let him, though he too seemed confused by this discovery. I wasn't _Force –_ why had Carlisle wanted _me? _Particularly when he seemed to dislike my dancing so much.

Carlisle gave a heavy sigh, "What happens in casting stays in casting, Miss Denali." He said it to Tanya, but I sensed he really meant to say _Helen. _"Regardless, the decision has been made and cannot be changed." He held up a hand against my outcry, "_Not _that I would want it to be, Miss Swan. Now," he clapped his hands together, "let us continue."

"You two," Mrs Fortescue said, ignoring Carlisle and pointing to Jacob and me. "If you need space to get this down then we will give it to you." She looked to Jacob, "We can reconvene after lunch to learn the other two pas de deux?"

"Thank you, Mrs Fortescue," Jacob said, the politest I'd ever heard him.

"Helen, please," she said with a smile. Master Carlisle looked away, only a clenched fist giving away his aggravation.

"And what are we meant to do?" Tanya asked shakily. "Sit and watch them?"

Jacob turned to Helen, "I don't think that's a good idea." He glanced at Edward, "We don't really need the understudies getting in the way."

Mrs Fortescue nodded and turned back to Tanya, "Why don't you and Edward go and buy your clothes for opening night?"

"I would let you borrow my tux," Jacob said charmingly to Edward. "But I'm afraid I didn't bring one – I knew I wouldn't need it."

Edward swiftly picked up his bag, "Thank you, Carlisle," he said to his headmaster, holding true to _Force _protocol. He barely looked at Mrs Fortescue, "Helen."

And then he left, Tanya in toe.

Helen smiled at us, "We'll leave you two to it."

"I want that choreography perfect," Carlisle said to us, eyeing me carefully, and then turned and followed Helen out the door.

"Jesus," I breathed as it clicked shut behind him. "I thought teachers were meant to be a united front..."

"Come on," Jacob said, uninterested. "You do need to get on top of this, Bella. It's not good."

Realizing he was right, I nodded and we started from the top, doing what we always did; combing through each individual step. It was a sure-fire way to remember something _and _get out any flaws – how could you forget a step if you'd just rehearsed it a fifty times, staring at yourself as you did it?

We both sunk into that beautiful, quiet mindset and the hours slipped by without our noticing. It was so easy with Jacob – far easier than with Carlisle and Edward and Tanya around. We hardly needed to say a word to each other to know what the problem was – if he needed to hold me a little lower around the waist or if I wasn't giving him enough of my weight. We were both so in tune, all it took was a second and then it was fixed.

It was only when we heard a crowd of voices outside that we realized it was lunchtime. "I'm starving," Jacob groaned, giving his arms a good stretch behind his back.

"I'm staying," I said. He nodded – we both knew I still needed to fix up that solo section; the one with the piques. It was still too messy.

"See you after," he said, shrugging on his jacket.

I smiled, kissing him lightly on the lips, "You know, leather and tights don't exactly go well together."

He smirked, his thumb running along my hip bone. "A fashion guru as well, are you?"

"I'm everything," I said. "I also collect stamps and go base jumping."

"Not on my watch, Swan," he said, opening the door. "Wouldn't want you breaking a leg and making me dance with Denali."

"Never," I chimed and he left, laughing.

I revelled in that endearing laugh only a moment before getting back into the dance.

I worked for the best part of forty minutes, getting all the footwork straight in my head. It wasn't really that difficult – Carlisle had just gone through it so quickly. I would have gotten it eventually, but this was much quicker and _way _less embarrassing.

I was running through it fully for the third time when, through the haze of my concentration, I heard the door open.

"Bella." It was Edward.

"Go away," I murmured, watching my hands during the changement. _A little higher..._

"Bella," he said, louder.

_He doesn't sound happy...left lower than right, just an inch._

I only stopped when I saw him reaching for my wrist.

"Get off!" I commanded.

He paused, still holding my wrist, staring at me, "When was the last time you ate?"

I snatched my hand away, "Why do you care?" My stomach rumbled. _Last night, _it answered unhappily. Trying to be nonchalant, I went to my bag and found the mushy breakfast muffin I'd never had time to eat.

"Maybe I shouldn't," he murmured. I turned to face him. He was leaning against the wall, a black dress bag slung over the barre next to him. He pushed his hands into his trouser pockets, "You don't seem to have any care for anyone else."

"What?" I snapped. "You're pissed because I didn't come begging your forgiveness or something?"

He stared at me, "How could you _possibly _think I would expect your forgiveness, Bella?"

I swallowed a mouthful of muffin, hardly tasting it, and looked away.

Edward sighed and walked towards me, "No, Bella, I wasn't referring to myself. You can be a bitch to me because I deserve it." I shied away from that label; it sounded so harsh...but he was right – he did deserve it. "You can be a bitch to Tanya because she deserves it." He came to a stop in front of me, his eyes cold, "But don't you _dare _speak to Lauren again or I _will _tell Carlisle and get you thrown out of this production."

I frowned, "Lauren?" I stared at Edward, his eyes certainly serious. "_Lauren?" _I laughed, "Edward, if I'm a bitch then she certainly is. Or, what? Is she another one of your conquests? Are you sharing her with Ben?"

Edward stared back at me, disbelief in those beautiful eyes, "How can you be so cruel?"

"Cruel?" I scoffed, "I'm not the one who stuck gum to someone's pointe shoes or ordered a footbath dumping over someone's personal belongings. Though that completely pales in comparison to the fact that she stole Angela's boyfriend. And now she's the First Year who gets to come to the NFSI? It's ridiculous."

"She didn't _steal _Ben," Edward said. "He helped her when it happened and they just grew closer together."

I blinked, "When what happened?"

Edward pulled back, his hands dropping, "Didn't Angela tell you?"

I hesitated, "Angela and I...we had a falling out."

Edward sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "I should've guessed." He took a breath and folded his arms, his voice quiet, "Lauren's sister, Jamie – it turned out she'd been terminally ill since last July."

"What?" I whispered. I remembered Jamie's name because she had been my competition to get into _Force; _Carlisle had told me that that was why Lauren had always had it in for me – the last place in First Year had been between Jamie and me, but the board had given it to me and I'd never found out what had happened to her. "No wonder Lauren couldn't stand me," I murmured. I looked up at Edward, "You said _had?" _

He nodded, "She died a little over a month ago."

"Oh God," I muttered and turned around to face the window, my nails digging into the barre. "That was the 'family issue' Angela put in her email..." I put a hand to my lips. "And Ben looked after her...and I said all those horrible things to her and threatened her..._shit!" _I cursed, slamming my hand back down on the barre.

"Bella..." Edward tried to put a hand on my shoulder but I spun round and grabbed it.

"Don't," but my voice felt broken and I didn't let go. I let my fingers grip his. My knuckles turned white. _I said all those things to her..._

"You weren't to know, Bella," Edward said softly, covering our hands, giving me warmth when all I felt was awful, chilling cold. "We all said things to Lauren which we shouldn't have. You remember when I took her down in class?"

I nodded, just wanting to scream...and cry. He had been defending me after Lauren's horrible prank with the footbaths. All her bullying...it had just been the pain and stress caused by her sister's illness.

"I tore myself up over that when I found out, Bella," he said quietly. "But I realized it wasn't worth it. Even Carlisle said he would've cut her some slack had he known, but her parents didn't tell him. How were we to know?"

"She suffered alone all that time," I whispered. She wouldn't have told Jessica...and Tyler – well, I doubted she'd have wanted to ruin what they had, even though he'd dumped her for Selene in the end.

Edward just nodded, "Ben was the first one she told, and then he urged her to go to Esme."

I squeezed Edward's hand tighter and pressed my forehead against his knuckles. Part of me wanted more...wanted to be held by him – wanted to wrap my arms around his waist and lose myself in the warm darkness of his chest. But there were two reasons I withheld; the first was obvious and yet small – he was Edward and I was meant to hate him. The second was far greater; I didn't deserve comforting, not after my attack on Lauren this morning.

"I have to apologize," I whispered, finally pulling back, though I still clutched his hand. "I have to go now..." I looked up at him, "Where is she?"

He brushed his thumb across my skin, "She's in the cafeteria – that's where I talked to her." He glanced behind me at the clock, "But you shouldn't go now, Bella."

"Why not?" I said. "I have to say something..."

"There's only five minutes left," he told me. "You need to get focussed on showing Carlisle the pas de deux."

"The 'f' word," I muttered humourlessly.

"It's important," Edward said softly. "You need to prove to him that you can do this."

I looked at him, "But you don't even want me to be Juliet." My voice wasn't accusatory – I didn't feel like making any more accusations today.

"Of course I want you to be Juliet," he said, tracing a vein along the back of my hand. His emerald eyes looked at me honestly, "I just wish I'd been Romeo."

"That wouldn't have worked," I said quickly, finally pulling my hands away. They felt cold immediately. "We tried, remember?"

"I should go and change," Edward said, avoiding my question. He walked across the room and picked up his suit bag. He turned back to me at the door, "Just focus on the pas de deux, Bella. You can talk to Lauren tonight."

"Thank you, Edward" I said quietly, but the door had already swung shut, leaving the words to hang in the empty room.

I forced myself to do as Edward had told me and pressed play on the CD player. I had to push my mind into the place this time and even then, the flaws and little issues I saw didn't quite bear the same importance they had had ten minutes ago.

It was only when Tanya came strutting back into the room, followed by Carlisle and Helen, that I properly managed to focus again. There was something in that sugar-coated smile which let me leave Lauren behind for the moment with the promise that I would return to it later and make things right. Well, as right as they could be.

"All sorted?" Jacob asked as he came in, putting his hands on my hips.

I nodded, trying not to look as Edward, now in sweat pants and a t-shirt, slipped back in the door and sat down on the floor next to Tanya.

"Well, let's see," Carlisle said, gesturing for us to begin.

With a confident smile to me, Jacob took up his place on one side of the studio and I went to the other.

The music began. We danced. And it went well. The mess which had once been the choreography had now been formed into a tight, precise routine. I knew exactly what I was doing and Jacob did, too. My little solo section went as well as the rest of it, my feet lightly jumping behind one another and my arms floating out from my sides. It wasn't flawless; of course not. But Helen Fortescue's solo applaud as we finished told me that it was close enough to perfect.

"I rest my case," she said simply.

"It was an improvement," Carlisle said with a nod.

Beside them, Tanya looked severely disgruntled. Edward stayed expressionless. I looked away as his gaze met mine, instead focussing back on Carlisle and Helen.

"Well," she said. "I think that this says it all – you should give them the choreography and let them at it."

"I said it was an _improvement," _Carlisle reiterated. "Not perfect." Jacob shot me a wink. I smiled. "It still lacked the excitement and mystery and joy of two young lovers' first meeting."

"Bells and whistles," Helen said, waving her hand dismissively. "Besides, Carlisle, you could do with the extra time to go and tell your son to joke and dance with Benvolio instead of playing pranks on him!"

Edward grinned and looked down at his lap, his eyes shining. I wondered just what Emmett had done to poor old Paul.

Carlisle looked up to the heavens, "_Mon dieu, _that boy." He returned his focus to us, "Alright, we will learn the remaining pas de deuxs and I will leave you two to work on them until tomorrow. Edward, you can come and help out the soloist boys with their variations and Tanya, you can stand in for Alice whilst she's helping with costumes."

Tanya stared at him, "You're kidding, right? We don't even get time to rehearse?"

"There's plenty of time before and after scheduled rehearsals," Helen pointed out. "I saw Bella and Jacob doing exactly that this morning on my way to breakfast."

I felt a little glow of satisfaction at that – recognition at last for my sleep-sacrifice!

"Okay," Carlisle clapped his hands. "Let's begin!"

And so it started all over again; the fumbling and the embarrassment and the general lack of dignity, but I knew it would be worth it this time.

And as Tanya moped off at the end of the choreographing to take up her job as stand-in, I allowed myself a smile; I was the _only _Juliet – Tanya was just an understudy.

It was only as Jacob and I finally packed up for dinner that I let myself return to my feelings about Lauren.

"What's up?" Jacob asked eventually, after I failed to reply to something he'd said. I was buried in my own thought.

I hesitated; _I should tell him...but he doesn't know Lauren. The least I owe her is her privacy..._so, despite the fact that I could have wrapped my arms around him and let him take the pain away, I just shook my head, "It's nothing." And he seemed content with that.

* * *

><p>Between writing and putting the kettle on, I watched Carlos Acosta and Tamara Rojo as Romeo and Juliet on YouTube. God, that man is the complete reason why men should do ballet (I was drooling)...but it was fairly eerie at the end when they suddenly got back up and started taking bows - I thought they were dead?!<p>

**Anyway, excusing my craziness, I hope you enjoyed!**

**The clock is reset another 48 hours - please flick me a review and tell me your thoughts!**


	24. Chapter 24

Hello!

Okay, so I'm a bit over twelve hours late (thanks for informing me - kept me on my toes :P)

Terribly sorry, but I had two very good reasons! One of which was rather catastrophic...

**Thanks so much if you reviewed!**

**Granted, there weren't so many this time but those that did thank you! You're awesome!**

Hope you review!

And enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>Memory - Andrew Lloyd Weber (Elaine Paige, of course. Great song to sing in the shower!)<em>

_Breathe Me - Sia_

_My Love - Sia_

_The Nutcracker - Tchaikovsky (Yes, the whole thing - meant I didn't have to stop writing to find new music)_

_Swan Lake - Tchaikovsky (I love Tchaik, if you haven't already guessed...)_

* * *

><p>"I'm the prostitute!" Danny squealed, running into the cafeteria. "I got the prostitute!"<p>

Jacob and I had just sat down to dinner with the other Royals, all of us utterly worn out.

"Is that something to be proud of?" Paul asked confusedly.

"Uhuh," she nodded, practically bouncing as she took her seat. "It's a trio! I'm not just gonna be another corps girl – I'm a demi-soloist!"

"Hey," Bridget exclaimed good naturedly, "I'm another corps girl! Besides, now you'll have to dance beside Rosalie Hale all the time. She's the _head _prostitute."

"Fits the part perfectly," Leah muttered, folding her arms over her chest. These little comments had been about all she'd added to conversation at all in the past few weeks. We'd given up on her grouchiness – how could you talk to a black hole? All she did was turn everything negative.

Danny blushed, "She is really scary. I was a little too close to her in the fouettes and she gave me the freakiest look I've ever seen and told me to get my feet under control in this creepy Russian accent. Maybe she has connections with the Mafia!"

"Damn," Damien muttered, shaking his head. "What I would give to – " Bridget slammed a hand over his mouth before we all lost our appetites.

"So," Bridget said to me nonchalantly, her hand still smothering Damien's mumbles. "What's it like being principal?"

"Great," I said with a small smile.

"We got Masen and Denali kicked out," Jacob said proudly, balancing back on his chair.

"Yeah," Seth said. "He came in to help with our mandolin variations."

"You get to use mandolins?" Gerry asked excitedly.

But Seth just ignored him, "He was actually pretty good at teaching us."

"Sure," Jacob scoffed.

"No, really," Seth said. He looked to me, "You were taught by him, right?"

"It was a long time ago," I muttered, prodding my food. "I mean..." but I remembered how he'd pulled my class up after Madame Wright's appalling teaching and told us we couldn't just let loose and drop our standards. I guessed that was his Monsieur Repin side talking. But he really had been a good teacher; he'd cared about every single student. _Except me, _I recalled, remembering how for weeks his eyes had simply skipped over me in his efforts to forget I existed. "He was a good teacher," I said eventually. "So maybe his should consider going into teaching instead of cluttering our studios up."

"Here, here!" Danny exclaimed, raising her glass of juice in a gesture which no one followed. But they did seem happy with my response; none of us wanted to have a reason to think any more of Edward Masen.

As everyone settled back into conversation about the production, I said to Jacob, "I'll see you in the studio – I've got to go sort something out."

He raised his eyebrow curiously, "Sure. See you there."

I smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek, "Don't worry; I'm not base jumping anywhere."

"Bella's base jumping?" I heard Danny ask confusedly as I slipped away.

_Okay, breathe. _I was nervous. Stupidly so, actually; it was just an apology to a First Year student – what was the worst that could happen? It wasn't exactly a lengthy speech in front of thousands. But that didn't help to alleviate my nerves as I walked past the USB tables and into _Force _territory – it was curious how quickly the lines were drawn in every room and studio. USB was almost inevitably always between us and them; the unknowing neutral country who both sides walked all over to get at the real prize.

There were four _Force _tables, all of them chattering noisily about the same things my own table had been blathering about. As I passed, though, eyes glanced up and then followed. At Edward's table – the nicest one, by the windows, Alice jabbed Jasper in the ribs excitedly, telling him to look up, "Hey, Bella!"

But I heard Edward murmur something to her and she quietened down.

I could see the back of Lauren's pale blonde head sitting at the table in the corner, close to Edward's. She was sitting with Third Years, of course, but they were talking amongst themselves whilst she sat picking at her food. I felt sorry for her; it must have been difficult – Jessica wasn't exactly Lauren's match in intelligence or, indeed, cunning, but she had always been there for her to talk to. Now she was looking like a serious fish out of water.

But as I approached, all conversation ceased. They looked up at me, all of them slightly familiar, but all of them looking slightly confused and territorial at the same time.

"Bella Swan – returned to the good side?" one of the guys asked.

"I seriously doubt it," I said with a curt smile. "Lau – "

"Aw," he cut in. "Come on, Swan! Tell us all about life here at Aro's – give us some gossip!"

"You are on our side, right?" asked one of the girls.

I rolled my eyes, "I was never on your side; you're Third Years. Last I remember, you were the ones laughing at me in the Dining Hall."

The girl waved a forked potato around, "But then you danced with _Edward. _And you're our age, so..."

"Right," I scoffed. "Well, I dance with Jacob Black now and I sit with the Royals, so if you'd like to just consider any allegiance completely destroyed, I'd be grateful."

Their mood shifted. "Well," the guy said. "Your dancing _has _gone downhill."

"Yeah," the girl concurred. "Jacob Black and you are – "

"Hannah," we all turned at Edward's authoritative voice. Alice, Jasper, Emmett and Rosalie were all glaring at my two interrogators. Tanya was strangely absent. Edward looked at the girl pointedly, "Is this necessary?"

"Edward," the guy said. "If she's on their side, then why – "

"Because we agreed we're not taking sides."

Hannah looked confused, "Yet you and Black – "

Edward sighed, "That's completely private; I'm not asking you to fight my battles for me. In fact, I'd prefer if you didn't," he glanced at me as he spoke, "Seeing as you're attacking the wrong people."

I frowned; what was he saying? That I was to be left out of his fight against Jacob? _Doesn't he realize that I _want _to be in this fight? What's Jacob's problem is my problem..._maybe he thought I was some kind of unwilling victim in all this – the total opposite to what I really was.

"Fine," Hannah said with a grumpy folding of her arms. She glared at me, "But I reckon you're making a mistake."

He gave her a blank smile, "Well, I guess I'll have to pay for that alone." He looked at me, "Do what you need to do."

And then he turned back to his table, the others following suit.

I felt bitter about Edward bailing me out, but I quickly reminded myself that that wasn't the reason for my visit to the _Force _side. "Lauren," I said finally. She'd stayed quiet this whole time, still picking at her food. She glanced up at me with heavily lined eyes. No wonder she looked so awful after all she'd been through. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

I looked at the others, but they seemed disinterested now, like dogs called off the chase.

She looked at me cautiously. I tried to build my face into an expression of kindness which, to be honest, I hadn't exactly used a lot lately.

"Whatever," she muttered, grabbing her bag.

Feeling incredibly unconfident, I held the door open for her. It was night, but the whole courtyard was lit by yellow security lights. The square pool of water with the dancer statue in the middle was still. The noise from the cafeteria came muffled through the glass walls, but did nothing to help the seriously awkward silence I was experiencing. I wasn't sure if Lauren felt it too – she just looked straight ahead as we walked.

"So," I began, my hand twisting around my bag strap. "I just wanted to apologize for everything I said this morning. I didn't realize what had happened..."

"That my sister died?" Lauren said stiffly, still looking forward. "Makes no difference.

"It explains why you were..."

"A bitch?" she finished.

"No," I said carefully, staring at my shoes as they moved. "Acting out. I just didn't know and if I had, I would have understood."

"Understand?" she snapped, stopping by the statue. "How the Hell could you understand something like that? So far as I can see, your life has been pretty good so far. Taking over _Force _and now here, stringing along Edward and now probably doing the same to Jacob Black. You don't understand."

I took a deep breath, trying not to snap back like I was so used to doing with her, "I would have been able to sympathise."

"I don't want your freaking sympathy, either, Bella," she said. "I just want people to treat me like they always did. I don't need sympathy or counselling or a freaking psychiatrist. I have Ben and Edward and that's all I need."

"Edward?" I couldn't help but stutter out.

"Yeah," she said. "Believe it or not, that guy who you hate so much and seem to really enjoy hurting is the only one who actually gets what I'm going through."

"His mother," I murmured in realization, ignoring her accusation. Edward had told me after the Review that his mother had died when he was very young.

Lauren nodded, "So he understands that the pain doesn't just go away with a chaise lounge and a shrink. Everyone else just thinks if they're nice enough to me it'll make everything better." She picked at her black nail polish, "I mean, it's not like it makes everything I've done okay and I wish people would stop pretending it did. I'm not looking for forgiveness and I'm certainly not going to _give _any," Lauren looked at me pointedly.

"I took your sister's last dream away," I said quietly, ashamedly, looking at the reflection of the dark sky in the water.

"You did," she said. "And, to be honest, I _still _don't think you were worth it. You left and by then she wasn't even well enough to accept her place. And it's not like you even spent that much time at _Force _actually _dancing – _you were injured or you were concussed or you were moping around or running away."

"I didn't run away," I said, trying to retain my calm. "There was nothing left for me."

"Oh please," she scoffed. "If you'd stayed another day, you and Edward would probably have kissed and made up."

"It wasn't that simple," I told her.

She rolled her eyes, "Whatever. I'm just glad I'll only have to deal with you for a few more days."

"Days?" I repeated.

"Yup," she said with a short, untrue smile. "Edward convinced Master Carlisle to let me come because there would be no one to get all 'sympathetic' on me and the dancing would be a good distraction but it turns out I'm even more miserable here than I was at _Force, _so I'm heading back to everyone else. At least Ben will be there, and at least the others will actually talk to me, even if it's just Violet blabbering on about the benefits of yoga during mourning."

I had to smile at that – that sounded exactly like something Violet would do. I sensed that Edward's idea _was _a good one – an escape, at least for a few weeks, from our class. They could be overbearing at times. But, then, she had looked pretty lonely, sitting at that table with all those Third Years who didn't even know her and didn't want to. Even Violet's insensitive but well-meant babble was better than that.

I frowned, thinking. There had to be something...

Lauren tapped her foot impatiently, "Is your heartfelt apology over? Because I'd rather endure all that crap about village girls and port de bras than have to stay in your company a second longer."

I shook my head, smiling, "You always had a way with your words..." I looked at her, an idea suddenly popping into my tired brain, "I have the perfect solution."

She looked at me dryly, "I don't care if you tell me that 'up dogs' and the lotus position help release negative feelings, I'm not going for it because it won't work."

"It's nothing like that," I muttered and began heading back to the cafeteria, pulling her along behind me.

She shook my hand off but kept following.

In the cafeteria, most people had gone. Rosalie, Emmett, Alice and Jasper were all still sitting at their table, the guys' arms slung over their girlfriends' chairs, chatting. A few of the USB students seemed to be having a great time Skypeing one of their teachers or something, all crowded around a laptop. Apart from that, only a few more people were sitting around, and most looked like they were getting ready to leave.

My shoulders dropped in disappointment...but there she was! At the bins, scraping her plate to give to the dinner ladies.

I grinned and gestured to Lauren to follow me. "Leah!" I said as she shoved her plate onto the counter and made to walk off.

She turned around, glaring at me and then looking Lauren up and down like she was an insect caught on the bottom of her army boots. _Is this really good idea? _I thought, but it was too late anyway. "What do you want?" she said.

I gave her my politest smile, "This is Lauren."

Lauren just studied Leah and looked at me, "What is she, a dancing shrink?"

"Excuse me?" Leah snarled. She brought her poisonous gaze on me again, "Why are you bringing me skinny blonde bitches? Why are you even talking to me?"

"Great question," Lauren said, folding her arms.

I looked up to the heavens, praying this would work, "I thought you two would make good friends."

"Oh my _God," _Lauren muttered. "I just spent the last ten minutes explaining to you that I have an abundance of caring, pathetic, doting friends."

I couldn't help but smile, "I think this might be a _little _different."

Lauren rolled her eyes and turned expectantly to Leah, "My sister died a month ago. She's my twin. I'm very young to lose a sibling. It's terrible and you're so sorry and no, I would not like to 'talk' about it."

Leah raised her eyebrows, folding her own arms, "Never offered."

I watched Lauren frown and grinned; Leah _was _different.

"See?" I said happily, looking between them. "You both have an extraordinary talent for pleasantries."

"Whatever," Leah muttered and made to leave.

"There's one more thing!" I said quickly.

She sighed and turned around, "What?"

I took a deep breath, "You both hate me."

Leah looked suspiciously at Lauren, "She's _Force."_

"Believe me," she replied mildly. "It makes no difference."

"None at all," I said. "Now, Lauren really doesn't have any idea where on Earth their boarding house is and whilst I would simply love to continue my heartfelt apology, I'm late for a rehearsal with your ex-friend-with-benefits, so if you could show Lauren where to go..."

Leah looked just about ready to blow.

Lauren snapped, "Of course I know where the freaking – "

"See you later!" I exclaimed and headed for the doors, hardly able to contain my laughter.

"Hey, Bella!" came a call. I spun around. Alice, Jasper, Emmett and Rosalie were all looking at me expectantly. It was Alice who'd spoken. She smiled, "We're debating the pros and cons of Emmett's wife-beater. Care to join?"

"Uh..." I glanced at Emmett's fluorescent green sports singlet. I wanted to say that the name was way too chauvinistic to be politically correct and that he'd be paying for eye surgery for all the blind people...but I just shook my head awkwardly, "Sorry – I've got rehearsal."

I pushed their disappointed looks from my mind and looked back to the counter, where Leah and Lauren were talking, each glancing at me in turn.

My happiness returned, I hurried out.

"What are you grinning about?" Jacob asked as I came through the door into our studio. He'd been dancing hard, judging by the sweat on his neck.

"I am a genius," I sung, swinging my bag under the barre and sitting down to get my shoes on. "I just found Leah a new best friend."

"Right," Jacob said. "And that was worth missing the start of rehearsal for?"

"Yeah," I said, quickly taping up my pinkie toe – my blisters were beginning to break now, which hadn't happened in a long time. When Jacob made no reply, I glanced up. He was looking at me discontentedly. "Okay," I sighed, standing up. "Sorry." When he still didn't lose the frown, I patted him on the shoulder. "Come on, you're not Carlisle and it was only a few minutes."

"We've got a lot to do, Bella," he said. "_You've _got a lot to do. I mean, rehearsals didn't go well today."

"It was the first rehearsal, Jacob," I said. "You know I'm crap at picking up the choreography the first few times. Now, let's get going and I promise I won't be late again."

Fortunately, after a moment, he shot me his signature smirk and pulled me into the centre, "From the top of the meeting scene."

\*\*/*/

When my alarm woke me up the next morning, it took me all the effort in the World to drag myself out of bed. My muscles ached, not that that was any different from usual. I was so tired, and I knew that today wouldn't offer any respite. But still, I got up and caked my face in makeup and pulled on my tights and leo, yawning all the way to Jacob's room to find him dressed and ready.

"I don't know how you do it," I muttered, smothering another yawn.

He grinned at me, making the morning slightly more bearable.

"I can't believe she's here," I heard Danny whisper a few hours later as Jacob and I walked into the day's first rehearsal. The Royals who'd arrived were huddled close together, all looking across the room. I followed their gaze curiously to a girl in USB uniform giving some papers to Carlisle. She was thin, with curly black hair pushed back into a bun and pale, freckled skin. Her eyes flicked around anxiously, like she was about to be attacked.

I frowned, swallowing my first and last bite of a granola bar, "Who's she?"

"Lottie," Bridget told me, not taking her eyes off the girl.

I glanced at Jacob, but he too was staring at her warily.

"And she is...?" I was getting confused – she wasn't _Force _and she wasn't anyone that had been mentioned before.

"Your predecessor," Seth said. "She left kind of unexpectedly."

"It was totally expected," Adela contradicted. "She and Leah didn't get on."

"Actually, she didn't really get on with anyone," Bridget said contemplatively. "Looks like the USB liked her better."

We watched as she gave Carlisle a nervous smile and joined the rest of the USB dancers. "What was wrong with her?" I asked.

"She was just irritating," Danny said, then elbowed me with a grin, "We like you much better."

"Oh God," Gerry groaned, walking in with Paul and Leah. "Is that who I think it is?"

"Oh yeah," Danny remembered, "And she wouldn't stop hitting on Gerry here."

I laughed, "Poor girl."

"Poor me!" Gerry exclaimed, scratching his beard worriedly. "This is going to be awful..."

But it seemed like 'Lottie' wasn't going to be a problem; on the few times I was in the same studio as her, she made a point of not looking at any of the Royals. In fact, she had quite the talent for becoming invisible and we soon forgot all about her.

The day was even more tiring than the last. After showing Carlisle our final two pas de deuxs – both of them polished and precise after rehearsing until midnight – we went on to our solos and other scenes. I quickly realized that the pas de deuxs, whilst the most important, were only part of the huge picture of what I was meant to learn. There were nurse scenes and parents scene and Paris scenes – which I was dreading, seeing as it wouldn't be Jacob partnering me.

I was also cursing Caius for not having taught me all the choreography; it added drastically to my workload. Jacob had a lot of sword fighting to learn, which I only caught a glimpse of after my solo rehearsal with Mrs Tia. It was hard – because the audience could not only see but hear the swords hitting each other, it was doubly important that they met at exactly the same moment.

"Faster, Tybalt!" Carlisle commanded as Gerry and Emmett duelled back and forth, a semicircle of 'villagers' around them, following them excitedly.

"Jesus!" Gerry gasped, jumping back on the balls of his feet, his sword – long and thin – clashing at the wrong time with Emmett's and sliding a little down, making the point come dangerously close to Emmett's eyes.

"Hey!" Emmett exclaimed, roughly parrying another blow. "I'd quite like to come out of this production with my vision intact!"

"Emmett, be quiet," Carlisle said. "And don't wave it around so much! Alright, and now stab him..."

"Finally," Jacob muttered to me from where he stood on the edge of the crowd.

"Mister Black!" Carlisle said as Emmett was 'run through' with Gerry's sword. "Your best friend's just been mortally wounded – some concern would be nice."

"Oh. Strife." Jacob said sarcastically as he rushed forward to grab Emmett's arm.

"Does Mercutio kill Romeo at the end of this?" Emmett asked, wincing in pain, clutching his wound. He and Jacob both sunk to their knees, Emmett holding onto Jacob for support. "Because otherwise we might need to change the plot..."

"You haven't even read the play?" Jacob said, shaking his arm in desperation.

Emmett raised an eyebrow and looked up at Jacob bluntly, holding up his sword for him to take. "It's called a joke, Black. Now..." he fell back onto the floor. "Where's my favourite prostitute?"

Quickly, Rosalie hurried to him, kneeling beside him. "Your favourite?" she said angrily.

"My only," Emmett murmured, putting a shaking, weak hand on the back of her neck. "Now, kiss me, wench."

She gave him a quick peck on the lips.

"But – " he began, dissatisfied, as she pulled away.

"Oh no," she said with a sly grin. "You're dead."

Quickly, he fell back down to the floor, his body limp.

"Your fellow countryman has just died!" Carlisle called out to everyone. "Is it really that boring?" Quickly, they adopted the correct facial expressions.

I just laughed quietly and shook my head; if only it was a comedy.

Then Mark called me away for another rehearsal and my quiet two minutes of relaxation were over.

Edward and Tanya stayed out of our way for most of the day, apart from the morning review of our pas de deuxs – Tanya looking noticeably peeved when our last two went just as well yesterday's. There were only a few things to work on in each, but Helen told us we were right on schedule.

By the time rehearsals were over for the day, I was tired and hungry. My last meal had been breakfast – lunch had been used up rehearsing my solo and dinner had to be used to break into the shoe room on the ground floor and take _another _pair of pointes out of my box – all pointe students had an annual allowance set aside for shoes. Mine had already been well exceeded. "I guess I know what my Christmas present is this year," I joked to Bridget as she pushed her hairpins back into place. Who knew? – She was an accomplished lock picker.

"It's gonna need to be an everyday present at the rate you're getting through them," she said. Admittedly, this was not the first time we'd done this.

We met Jacob halfway down the corridor and said our goodbyes.

"Feel like doing some sewing tonight?" I asked him with a grin, twining the new ribbons around my fingers as we walked up the stairs.

"I'll do the hammer thing," he said. "But nope; you're sewing."

We climbed all the way to the third floor – we could use the big, stage-sized studio at night now that it was unlocked.

"You're more likely to hit your thumb than the shoe," I teased as we went to the double doors. I frowned. The lights were on and music was coming from inside.

We both looked in the window to see Edward in full flight, leaping through the air like gravity didn't even exist. He landed and then was up again, travelling in a fast oval around the room. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his eyes wide open and alight; exhilarated.

"What the Hell is he doing?" Jacob snapped, shoving the doors open. In a second, he'd marched over to the speakers and flicked off the music.

Edward stopped, breathing hard. "How polite," he muttered, wiping the sweat off his forehead. He glanced at me, "Didn't see you at dinner."

I frowned, "How observant of you. So?"

He gave me a look and went to get his water bottle, "Figured you might want to know that your act of kindness worked out."

"What is he talking about?" Jacob asked through gritted teeth.

"Wait," I said cautiously. "How do you mean?"

Edward smiled, taking a sip, "Lauren seems to have found her match." He glanced at Jacob, "One of yours, I believe."

Jacob raised an eyebrow, "You mean the skinny blonde girl who Leah randomly decided can sit at our table?"

"That's great!" I exclaimed excitedly. My plan had worked!

Edward nodded, his eyes shining, "Thank you for that; couldn't exactly have done it myself."

Jacob rolled his eyes impatiently, "Lovely. Now clear out – this is our space."

Edward sighed and put his water bottle down, "I would, but I need it and I got here first."

"How childish," Jacob retorted.

"Childish?" Edward scoffed. "Don't talk to me about childish when you're the one who hasn't grown up in three years."

"We're the principals," Jacob snarled. "Whatever you're doing is not as important as our rehearsals."

Edward just shook his head and walked towards him, "Believe it or not, Jake, this production is not the only production going on in the World at the moment."

I saw Jacob's face turn ashen, "What?"

Edward gazed at his enemy, looking him up and down, "And that would concern you, wouldn't it?"

Jacob glared at him, "No."

Even I could tell that that was a flimsy lie. But, then, that was typical Edward; he had a way of messing people around. "Edward, please," I said. "Can't you just give us the room for a bit?"

"Edward doesn't compromise," Jacob said, not taking his eyes off him. "And he doesn't _deserve _to compromise."

"We need to rehearse," I appealed again, sensing Jacob's words weren't getting us anywhere. "Please."

Edward finally broke off their stare to look at me, "Give me half the studio."

I sighed, "Come on, just – "

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."

Jacob smirked, "That makes me even less likely to give it to you."

Edward ignored him and held my gaze, willing me. I remembered his kindness earlier today...the warmth of his hands around mine...

"Let him use half," I muttered, dropping my bag on the floor and pulling off my cardigan. "We don't need the whole space yet."

"No," Jacob snapped. I looked back at him, startled by his harshness.

Edward just nodded, a spark of disappointment in his eyes, "You really haven't changed."

"Why would I change?" Jacob snarled.

Edward glanced at me, then said carefully, "I thought Bella might've changed you."

"What?"

"It's been known to happen."

Jacob just rolled his eyes again, disgusted, "Unlike with you, Bella doesn't _need _to change me because we actually work well together."

"Then why don't you 'work well together' and agree with her to let me use the room?"

Jacob just gave him a nasty look and then said, "Fine. But our music."

"You don't use music, Jacob," Edward said tiredly, reaching for his iPhone and headphones.

I looked at him, confused, "How did you know?"

"Monsieur Repin," Edward answered. "His ridiculous ideas were drilled into me just as much as they were into Jacob."

"He's a genius," Jacob snapped back.

"Come on," I muttered to him, pulling him into our half.

We ignored the rhythmic thump of Edward's heel as he turned and turned in fouette after fouette and instead got to work on the death scene.

It was certainly the hardest pas de deux, and the one which needed the most work. It was hard because I was supposedly dead by this point – my limbs had to appear completely loose and yet none of it would work if I was truly dead weight. We were getting through it, though – it was just that some of the lifts were difficult to judge when there was none of the same technique usually involved.

"This is straining my back," Jacob said as we tried to work out a particularly difficult lift. I was lying down and he was basically meant to take my hands and pull me up over his shoulder. "I need more support."

I nodded, lying back down again. The problem was that if I helped him by pushing myself up with my legs, it would be too obvious that I was alive. "Way too lively," I muttered as we did it again.

We were both getting frustrated – I sensed Jacob really wasn't too happy with Edward's presence, not that he'd even looked or said a thing to us. Whatever he was rehearsing for, it was demanding his full attention. I tried to work out what it was from – I recognised the choreography but I hadn't heard enough of the music to know. It was hard, though, and majestic.

"Again," Jacob said. I lay down, my arms above my head. _If only I could just sleep... _but then Jacob was pulling my hands out in a wide circle and then, with more force, he pulled me right up.

"Ow!" I shouted.

"That was it," he said as I landed bent over his shoulder.

"No it wasn't," I told him, sliding back down and shaking my arm out. "Unless you want me screaming on stage."

Jacob frowned, "Bella, that's the way you – "

"Oh for God's sake," Edward muttered, pulling out his ear buds and tucking them into his armband. "That's _not _the way you do it, Jacob, or she wouldn't be shouting." He looked to me, "Don't think too much about the legs, there's just a point where it will come. Jacob, pull her up again, but slowly."

"Why should I?" Jacob snapped.

Edward rolled his eyes, "Because I would do it myself but I seriously doubt Bella would like that."

"Quite right," I said quickly, heart thudding. Lying down again, I held my wrists up to Jacob, "Come on, let's just try? We need to get this sorted out."

"Besides," Edward said. "If you get injured then Tanya replaces you." He gave Jacob a pleasant smile, "Wouldn't want that to happen, would we?"

Jacob just glared at him and began pulling me up.

"Slowly," Edward said in a voice I well remembered – his teacher voice. My top half began to rise off the ground. "Keep your body relaxed, Bella," he said, gazing at the two of us. I did as he said. "And then you just bring your knees up at the same time as your torso – match the angles."

"That makes no sense," Jacob muttered, still pulling.

"I feel it," I said thoughtfully, smiling; there it was – the grounding to push myself up properly.

"Good," Edward said. "And it does make sense; people won't focus on your legs when your top half is moving with your arms."

"Like a magician and a bunny," I murmured with a smile, remembering how the magician would just slip the rabbit into the hat while his hand was in the air for the audience to look at.

"Great," Jacob said. "Bunnies."

I laughed, "Come on, Jacob – this works."

Edward leaned back against the barre to watch us as we did it again. "Perfect," he said, then grinned, "Or shall I point out ten thousand mistakes for you to worry about?"

"Which ones?" I asked.

Edward just shook his head, laughing, "It was fine, Bella."

"'Fine' doesn't cut it for us, Edward," Jacob said, slipping an arm around my waist. "Which is why we're principals and you're not."

Edward lost any joviality in his features, pushing himself off the barre and walking towards us, his eyes set on Jacob, "You know perfectly well why I'm not a principal, Jacob. And you know it has nothing to do with my dancing."

"You got distracted," Jacob said. "That has everything to do with your dancing."

Edward just looked at us for a moment, then shook his head, "At least I'm capable of being distracted." He gazed at me, those emerald eyes impossible to look away from, "And at least I'm capable of caring about something other than myself."

I sighed, "Don't try playing that card."

Jacob gave me a reassuring squeeze, "She's over you, Ed; can't you accept that?"

"_Please _accept that," I added.

"I can't," Edward said quietly. "Not when you're with _him."_

When neither of us replied, he just sighed and packed up his bag. "Then stay out of our way," Jacob muttered as he headed for the door.

"Edward!" I said quickly. He turned back, looking at me expectantly. I just looked back for a moment, then muttered, "Thank you. For the tips."

"Thank you for helping Lauren," he replied quietly, then swept out the door.

Jacob immediately dropped his hand from my waist and turned on me. "What are you doing, Bella?"

"Thanking him," I said. "Because he helped us and that's what you say to people when they help you."

"How much have you been seeing him?" his questions were fast; a true interrogation.

I huffed, pushing back a piece of loose hair from my face, "There was an issue with one of the First Years which I _had _to sort out."

"First Years?" he repeated. "Bella, you're a Royal now; they don't matter."

"But my mistakes _do _matter," I told him. "And I screwed up when I was at _Force _and I had to make it right."

"If it's about that blonde girl then it didn't exactly sound like you were 'making it right' this morning."

I nodded, "I know, but then Edward told me something about her and I had to apologize."

"Edward told you?" he said. "So you have been seeing him?"

"No!" I exclaimed, my voice bouncing off the studio walls. "He came into my rehearsal, threatening to tell Carlisle I was bullying people and then ended up explaining to me what had happened."

"Conniving bastard," Jacob growled, dragging a hand through his hair.

"He was just looking out for his students..." I hesitated, knowing Jacob wasn't going to like this. "Jacob...I know he's been awful to me and to you, somehow. But he's not all bad."

Jacob just stared at me. I continued, "All he wants here is to make some stupid point about you being worse than he is but we both know that's not true and now everyone else knows it, too." I took his hands in my own, looking up at him in earnest. "We're the principals, Jacob. We're together. I'm yours, not his. Isn't that enough?"

"It's not enough," he said roughly, yanking his hands away and pacing down the studio. He turned abruptly to face me, "You want to know what happened to make me hate him so much, Bella?"

"If it would help," I said warily.

He started pacing again, "In the NFSI two years ago, I got principal dancer in _Giselle. _Edward was understudy. We were best friends – neither of us cared. But then there was the girl who was dancing Giselle and I thought that I was in love with her." He smirked to himself, "Not that I was, really. But I told Edward because we're best friends and best friends tell each other their secrets – they _trust _each other with their secrets."

I nodded, not liking the direction this was taking. 'Edward' and 'trust' didn't exactly work in the same sentence. Jacob grimaced, his hands clamped tight behind his back. I wanted to go to him...help him with the pain or anger or whatever it was...but I let him go on. "I was dancing with her and it was going well. We worked perfectly together and I knew she was falling for me. But then, in the third show of the tour, I landed slightly wrong after a leap and that was it." He looked at me, his eyes despondent, "My whole tour was over in three days."

"So Edward became lead?"

He nodded, "Ed became Albrecht and I was sitting in a wheelchair in the front row, watching him dance my part with the girl I thought I was in love with."

"But it was just partnering..."

He gave a dry smile, "That's what I tried to tell myself when I watched them. In truth, we should have been the same; Monsieur Repin had taught us exactly the same and he should have danced just like me. But he didn't – he danced differently. _Badly," _Jacob shook his head. "He was inconsistent and shaky. And yet, for some stupid reason, the girl liked that." Jacob had stopped by the windows and was staring out at the city lights. "He danced ten more shows, becoming the new face of the NFSI, before I recovered."

"Were you two still on good terms?" I asked.

Jacob just gave a humourless laugh, "I thought we were. I seriously had the stupidity to think we were still best friends. And then, the morning of the final show – the one I would finally get to dance in – all I could hear from anyone was that they wished Edward was doing closing night, not me."

"That's horrible," I muttered.

He nodded, "But I was willing to forgive him because I knew it wasn't his fault. I found the girl and tried to talk to her about all my worries and crap, but she just looked at me and told me to stay away from her because she was in love with Edward."

"Bastard," I murmured.

But Jacob shook his head, "No. I didn't think so. I thought there was some kind of an explanation and that it was all her fault." He sighed, "But then, on the way to the theatre, I saw them holding hands in the park, kissing."

"Just like him and Tanya," my nails dug into my arms. I had forgotten exactly what Edward was capable of, but now it was all coming back twice as strong.

"And yet when I approached him about it, he denied it ever even happening. He said there was nothing going on between them." Jacob just stared at a spot outside, his eyes sad.

"Jacob," I whispered and went over to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I felt his pain – that sense of betrayal...

His fingers absentmindedly stroked down my back as he gave me a half-hearted smirk, "This is the bit you won't like."

I shrugged, "I doubt it can beat what Edward did."

"It doesn't," he assured me. "No, I just...I felt so angry that I might have had a little more than I should've to drink."

"Drinking before a show?" I said. "Where'd you even get it from?"

He smiled, "Every generation of Royals has a stash, as I'm sure you'll find out. I was principal, despite being in Class C, so they kinda bumped my status up."

"So you got plastered?"

"Completely," he said. "There was a Russian danseur in the Royals that year and he had the strongest vodka man has ever known..."

"Oh God," I groaned. "This isn't going to end well."

"It doesn't," he agreed. "I danced awfully; the worst I have ever danced. The worst anyone's ever danced. I was completely out of it and everyone, audience and cast, could tell. Jeffrey Evans was in charge that year and it was him, apparently, who gave the order for Edward to get into my Act Two costume and start warming up."

"Bet he was overjoyed," I said mildly, my hand resting on his chest.

"Ecstatic," he said. "And so I was shepherded off to booing and shouting and Edward came on to a standing ovation and danced my role so well that everyone forgot about me. He betrayed me, Bella. He took the girl I thought I loved and my whole career in one night." He sighed, watching his finger draw a gentle line down my cheek, "He was meant to be my best friend and he just stabbed me in the back."

I nodded, finally understanding this whole mess, "And that is why you hate him so much."

"Yeah," he murmured. "I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier – I just know how manipulative he can be and I don't want to see you hurt again."

I smiled, "Well, we'd better not let him waste any more of our time." I began to pull him back to the centre, but he stopped me.

"One more thing," he said with a grin, and brought his lips to mine.

* * *

><p>So sorry I took so long (well, twelve hours) - I had an awful, sleepless night after my last post which pretty much took me out of the next day.<p>

And then I was _just _about to post last night when I had a huge realization and had to delete about a quarter of the chapter (you would laugh if you'd known what I'd done...).

However! This means that I have already unintentionally written have half of the next chapter! Yay!

**Next chapter will be up soon so please tell me your thoughts! Are your some of your questions answered or has Jacob's wee satire just brought more up?**

**Thanks so much for reading!**


	25. Chapter 25

**THIS IS NOT A CHAPTER BUT IT IS AN OUTTAKE FROM _CLAIR DE LUNE_**

**Hi from Changi Airport!**

**So I am sorry to say that I have left my dearest laptop in England so it may be used by someone with far more patience than me (I'm way too tempted to throw it against the wall - it's getting dangerous).**

**Consequently, I am going to be without means of typing up the next chapter for a little while.**

**_So, _****because I'm not sure how long it will take for my new laptop to arrive once I'm back in NZ, I decided to give you something a little different to make up for the delay!**

**This is an alternative to Chapter Thirteen in ****_Clair de Lune._**

**Basically, Bella has just gotten a whole load of complaints and nastiness from her old first year class (oh, how I miss them). Alice is trying to distract her from it all.**

**It was changed for obvious reasons - a huge deviation from the plot and not a whole load of true substance.**

**Anyway, just thought you might like it as a wee wind back to the times of ****_Force!_**

* * *

><p>"Where are we going?" I asked as Alice led me up the stairs to the second floor where, as far I knew, there were only student dorms and teacher lodgings.<p>

"Somewhere where annoying teachers like Master Hinde and all those idiots who seem to be constantly pissing you off don't go," she said as we reached the landing. She led me down the same corridor my dorm was down, and I briefly wondered if that was where she meant. But instead, she stopped at a door right next to the girls bathrooms.

If I'd noticed it at all, I'd probably have thought it was a janitor's closet. "Okay," said Alice with an excited smile, though she stood protectively in front of the door, a tiny key suddenly in her hand. "You are not allowed to tell anyone about this. The only reason I tell you is because..." she looked at me with exaggerated scrutiny. "Well, you pissed off Tanya for one thing," she twisted her lips to one side, quirking her head the other way, "Actually, you seem to piss off quite a few people, from what I just saw."

I opened my mouth to protest, but she was back to her ordinary grin. "Yay! We have lots in common. That'll be a good enough reason for Jazz and Em. Rose and Edward..." she blew a hair away boredly, "they'll live. Come on!" She grabbed my hand again and quickly unlocked the old-fashioned key hole.

"Is Narnia in there or something?" I asked.

She laughed, opening the door to reveal a narrow passage way. The only light came from the corridor behind us. "Not quite, but it's private."

"You know, I can't really see you pissing anyone off," I said as I shut the door behind me. Alice got out her phone, casting a little light. I could see that the narrow walls were wallpapered with peeling designs of flowers and leaves. A faded red carpet was rolled down the creaking floorboards. Clearly no one had bothered to refurbish it like the rest of the academy.

Alice laughed, the high sounded bouncing off the close walls, "Yeah, but people here get pretentious. Aside from Edward and Tanya, my group's pretty odd. Rose is considered too busty, Em's too muscular, Jasper's too tall and I'm..." she turned and grinned up at me.

"Too short?" I said.

She laughed again and nodded, "And yet we're at the top of the school. That tends to get people annoyed."

I sighed, "I think I know what you mean."

"I thought you might," she said, and then we came to a halt. The black passageway ended with an old cherry wood door. It looked plain enough, but as Alice shone her phone light a little lower, I realised into the door was carved the school crest that hung in every room. This one seemed more intricate. Roses intertwined the unicorn, the lion, the angel and, of course, the dancer. And underneath, carved in delicate calligraphy, were the words:

Monsieur Marcus Vigernon,

Premier Maître de Ballet

I reached out, touching the carving. I could see it had been coloured in gold, though only flecks of the paint were left. Marcus Vigernon, the founder of _Force_.

"This is Marcus Vigernon's office," Alice said quietly.

"Why is it hidden?" I asked. At my old school, every new principal would proudly take over the same office...

She smiled, "You'll see," she said, turning the doorknob.

The door creaked loudly as it opened.

We stepped into an ornately beautiful room. It was octagonal, with three walls dominated by huge windows. Rich red curtains framed them, hanging down to the polished wooden floor. In front of the centre window stood an elegant cherry wood writing desk, complete with a silver inkwell. Spread over it were pieces of old paper with scrawls of writing on them.

To the left of the desk stood a wooden music stand. A violin and bow rested on a side table next to it. I looked around, awestruck by the personality of the room. A ballet barre was attached to a wall. It was short, and the bottom was carved with wooden vines and roses. A pair of worn men's ballet shoes sat underneath it. The un-windowed walls were panelled with carved dancers, much like on the grand staircase, artfully standing in poses. "Can I walk around?" I asked.

She grinned, seeing my expression, "It's not a museum, you know."

"I know," I said, "it looks more like Monsieur Vigernon just popped out for a cup of tea." As if he was due back at any moment. The desk chair had been pushed back as if someone had just stood up out of it. A dipper pen rested on top of the papers, as if something still needed to be written.

"It was left exactly as he'd left it," said Alice. "If the Board knew about it then they'd probably want to turn it into another dorm room." I looked at the music still sitting on the stand; Entr'acte from Sleeping Beauty, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky.

"That's ridiculous," I murmured, "this is like..." I went over to the desk, covered with costume designs and pointe shoes order forms. A thick leather bound book lay on top of some of the papers. It was hand written in messy, but somehow legible black calligraphy, and I would have thought it was a diary, except that at the top was written Chapter Three: The technicalities of a Pirouette en Pointe.

I would have read on, but there was a sudden thud and I almost leapt out of my skin. "Jesus Alice!" I breathed. A square hole had suddenly appeared in the ceiling, and I could see the grey clouds of the sky through it. The step ladder must have been attached to the hatch, because now it touched the floor, giving us a way up.

Alice was grinning, "Yeah, some people call me that."

I stepped away from the desk. "Is it new?" I asked.

She shook her head, "Nope, it was built with everything else. Come on!"

She climbed up first, and then me. The wind whipped at my hair. I quickly shut the trapdoor, not wanting to let the spitting rain into Monsieur Vigernon's room. "Cool, huh?" Said Alice.

I looked around me. We emerged onto what seemed like a balcony, right on top of the academy.

* * *

><p><strong>Total plot deviation - I know. And it could be a room from Hogwarts...<strong>

**Basically, Monsieur Vigernon ended up committing suicide. I wrote something about that, as well, but it's been lost in my disorganisation. Probably a good thing - seriously didn't fit.**

**I also planned on Edward and Bella having a dance on the roof, but that didn't happen either...**

**Anyway, a lot of you guys were saying that you miss Alice and so do I! So there's a little Alice for you...**

**I will update as soon as I can - a fortnight, maybe?**

**Thanks so much for all your amazing support! Sorry this wasn't a full chapter!**

**Another twelve hours in a metal tube...yay...**

**Amberdeen :D**


	26. Chapter 26

Most amazing readers!

I am back! And thank you so much for sticking with me!

I know I said I would update as soon as my laptop came but it still hasn't! Getting seriously irritated, seeing as it's been over a month since I arrived home to New Zealand.

Arg!

Anyway, on top of not having 24/7 access to a decent computer, school has started, complete with all the stresses and excitement and dreaded internals...ugh. I also landed the principal role in this fantastic production so there are ten thousand rehearsals to be at, not that I'm complaining - I feel like Bella...just not _that _prestigious. And there are no sexy guys in tights running after me...damn!

**Most importantly, though, thank you so, so much if you have reviewed or PMed me! Your messages have kept me going!**

**As always, it would be easy to throw in the towel with the crazy workload but I know you won't let me and I'm _very _glad!**

**So thank you; you are definitely the co-authors! Can't do it without you!**

Anyways, onwards!

I'm sorry this is a short, somewhat insignificant chapter, but I don't know when I'll get the next chance to post so I figured this could bridge the gap!

**Please review**

**and enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>"Edward took the girl I thought I loved and my whole career in one night." Jacob sighed, watching his finger draw a gentle line down my cheek, "He was meant to be my best friend and he just stabbed me in the back."<em>

_I nodded, finally understanding this whole mess, "And that is why you hate him so much."_

_"Yeah," he murmured. "I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier – I just know how manipulative he can be and I don't want to see you hurt again."_

_I smiled, "Well, we'd better not let him waste any more of our time." I began to pull him back to the centre, but he stopped me._

_"One more thing," he said with a grin, and brought his lips to mine._

* * *

><p>"You're doing it wrong."<p>

"But it's – "

"No, you're doing it wrong."

"I can't – "

I huffed and grabbed his hand, pushing it against my ribs. "You need to _grip."_

It was Friday lunchtime and I was in one of the smaller studios with a guy so stupid that I did wonder if he was actually a fully-evolved human. A day and a half had passed since Jacob had told me the truth behind his hatred of Edward. In that time, I had rehearsed and rehearsed and rehearsed some more. Every second of the day I seemed to be on my toes or in someone's arms. Jacob's I didn't mind so much. But this guy's? It was like dancing with a steel girder.

I sighed and pushed his hands away altogether. I think his name was Jonah – I didn't really care. To me, he was just Paris. And he wasn't getting it.

"It's just that I haven't danced like this before," he whined, flicking his straightened brown hair away from his eyes.

"It's a two minute long pas de deux!" I exclaimed, pushing fingers into my hair and meeting with a painful resistance – I was sweating and working so hard now that over half a can of hairspray had to be used to get my bun through the eighteen or nineteen hour days. "Seriously," I tried again. "I have way more challenging things to be rehearsing right now than a straight up and down lift. If you could just look in the mirror and – "

"If I look in the mirror then I'll drop you," Jonah said. It was our second rehearsal together – the first had been with the rest of the cast, Carlisle clearly having assumed that we would get it easily. And _I _had. It was Jonah who couldn't work out what the Hell he was doing. And yet now he stood defiantly in front of me, every five seconds flicking that stupid piece of hair out of his face, making me question how hard it would be to simply cut his character out of the ballet altogether. Helen and I _were_ getting along pretty well at the moment...

"Look," he was saying as I zoned back in – I was having more and more trouble focussing on what people were saying now, though I guessed that was because they were all saying such inane things. He flicked the hair again, "My teacher always told me that the best way to not drop someone was to look at the nape of her neck."

I just stared at him. "You're kidding."

Another flick. "Nope," he said. "And he danced with the Trocadero ballet. I think he knows a little more than you."

"Great," I muttered, tapping my pointe on the floor. The Trocadero was a company made up entirely of male dancers. They did the same repertoire as normal companies, but of course they weren't exactly serious – they were men en pointe. "So you were taught by a cross-dressing Odette?" I gave another exasperated sigh and picked up my bag.

"Where are you going?" he asked, not exactly alarmed. Maybe more relieved...

I gave him a curt smile, "I'm going to go and rehearse by myself and – would you _please _stop flicking your hair!"

He froze, then blinked, looking up at it. As if finally registering his habit, he looked back at me, "Sorry..." he gave me a weak smile and flicked his hair again. "Can we try one more time?"

I shook my head, "Find a corps girl and practise it with her. When you think you've got it down, come and find me and maybe it'll go better."

"But – "

"Or find Tanya Denali," I suggested amusedly as I reached for the door handle. "I'm sure she'd love to dance with you." I glanced back to see Paris gaping like a fish. "Bye," I muttered and opened the door. Instead of the corridor, though, I found myself walking into a muscular, familiar chest.

"Woah," he said, putting his hands on my shoulders to steady me. "Where do you think you're going?" Edward said with a slight smile as I stepped away, almost backing into the door. His hands dropped from my shoulders.

"Why do you think that's any of your business?" I snapped, righting myself and giving him my most venomous look.

I had spent the last thirty-six hours avoiding him; he made me too angry and that never boded well for my focus. Every time I caught a glimpse of his stupid bronze hair or his predictable fitted v-neck, my mind would be sent off in a flurry of bitter thoughts and memories. Edward had cheated on me, hurt me, betrayed me. But he had also done it to Jacob. One time could perhaps, _maybe, _be considered a rectifiable mistake. But twice? Over the space of years in which he should have grown up? No, Edward was no longer forgivable. He was just a painful, distracting thorn in both our sides, and I was going to stay true to my vow to not let him get the better of me again. My focus was not going to waver. I would give him nothing.

Back in the corridor, Edward didn't even flinch at my look; he just gazed at me, "Woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, Bella?"

I raised my eyebrows. I should've just walked away, but this was too good to pass off, "At least I didn't wake up with Tanya drooling over my pillow."

Edward sighed, "So the progress we made the other night really has taken a backwards step?"

"Yeah," I said. "And then some." I stepped around him, wanting to get away from his stupid gaze and the disgust it brought with it.

But then his fingers wrapped around my wrist, "Bella. You're not going anywhere."

"Jesus, Edward," I snapped, yanking my wrist away and glaring at his expectant face. "You're not my teacher anymore. You're not even my friend. So stop bossing me around."

"Actually," he said calmly. "I am your teacher." He nodded to the studio door. Through the window, I could see John or whoever he was nervously going through the choreography with an imaginary Juliet in his hands. Edward looked back to me, "Carlisle made the astounding prediction that you and Joseph weren't going to get anything sorted."

I folded my arms over my chest, "Fine, then, go and partner him and teach him what to do. I'm only coming back when he knows how to _not _drop me. I've got more important stuff to do than getting my back broken."

"Bella," Edward said firmly, his eyebrow pointed, "Unless you're going to go take a break, which I seriously doubt, you are going to get back in that studio and help that poor guy learn how to partner because it's what the _director _of this production wants you to do." Edward shook his head, "And you don't want to get on Carlisle's bad side."

"I _am _on his bad side," I replied. "He seems to hate my dancing almost as much as you do. And he hates Jacob, too."

He looked away, a dry smile on his lips, "Believe me, I know Carlisle's bad side and I'm fairly sure I'm the only one on it at the moment. Not a pretty place."

I rolled my eyes, "Well I'm really, _really _sorry that you're not the golden boy of the ballet world anymore and nobody likes you."

Edward just sighed and reached past me to hold the door open.

I gave him a solid glare before stalking back into the studio. Joseph gave me a look of fear, followed by an even greater scale of terror for Edward.

"Hey," Edward greeted him with a tired smile.

"Are you replacing me?" Joseph asked nervously, flicking his hair twice in that short sentence. _Where the Hell are my scissors?_

Edward frowned, caught the fearful way Joseph glanced at me, and then laughed, "No; I'm sure you can do just as good a job as I can." He sat down in one of the chairs and gestured to us like he was some kind of official teacher, "Show me how you're doing."

"Just watch the mirrors," I muttered to Joseph.

I ignored Edward's judging eyes as we went through the tiny little pas de deux. It was a marvel Joseph could have this much trouble with such a short, simple piece. We ended badly; once again, he didn't grip my ribs properly and I ended up sliding down until his hands were in my armpits.

"Jesus!" I snapped when it finally finished. "_Grip!"_

Joseph just looked hopelessly at Edward, who stood up, arms folded, a finger on his smiling lips.

"Yeah," I said sarcastically. "This is _so _funny."

"It's a two second pas de deux," Edward replied. He gave Joseph a smile, "Just relax. Your nervousness isn't helping."

Joseph looked down, the curtain of hair flopping over to cover his eyes, "It's a little hard to…uh…with…"

"Right, just don't think about that," Edward advised. He looked at me, "If you'd care to stop narrating, we might have some more progress. Now," he went on before I retorted. "Just remember that you're going to hurt her more if you don't hold properly." He gestured for Joseph to put his hands on my ribcage. I dutifully faced away. "Alright," Edward said as I inspected my nails. "Just a little higher. There's a spot which just feels right to hold. Down a little."

I felt Joseph's skinny fingers curling around my sides. I shut my eyes and ran through the bedroom scene choreography in my head – it had been last night's main piece for rehearsals. "Not that hard," I muttered as I felt a nail between two ribs. _And pas de bourée, promenade…lift the chin…_

"A little to the left with your other hand," Edward instructed. "No, up more. Okay, try a little lift."

"It needs to be more centred," I murmured, eyes still shut, as he pathetically lifted me half an inch off the floor.

"Just feel for the space above the hips," Edward said.

"Still wrong," I chimed. _Step in four counts. Don't rush it. Demi…pointe…_

"More confident – feel the shape."

_Remember the extension in the arabesque. Leave enough time to get there…what is he doing? _"It's not ballroom, Jonah."

"Right hand a bit higher."

I squirmed agitatedly, "Your palm is meant to be horizontal. It's not a high five."

"Step back an inch – give yourself more room."

"Still needs to be more horizontal." _I need to get more pointe shoes…when's my next costume fitting?_

"Make sure you're behind her."

"You're totally wrong." _This is boring…oh, it's today…_

"Just feel for the hold more."

"Yeah," I said. "Not that hard."

"It is pretty easy, you can do it."

"Jesus, even _Mike _didn't need this much explaining."

"It's just natural, Joseph. You'll feel it."

"Only natural if you actually have talent…"

"It's simple, really. You'll be fine – "

"Shut _up!" _

I suddenly felt Joseph's hands wrenching away from me. My eyes flickered open and I turned around.

Joseph gave an angry flick of his hair this time. Kind of like a disgruntled Shetland pony. His eyes flicked from me to Edward, "If it's so _'easy' _then why can't you two just _show me?"_

We paused, both just looking at him.

Little Joseph actually seemed to have a backbone because he just looked back at us expectantly.

I determinedly didn't look at Edward.

Eventually, Edward sighed and said, "It's better if you do it."

"Yeah," I said plainly. "Our example won't help."

He shrugged, folding his arms, "I think it will."

"It really won't," I replied with a curt smile, meaning to shut him up.

But Joseph was immovable.

I huffed and stepped in front of Edward, lifting up my arms. "Hurry up – show him the magical and elusive hand placement."

With a sigh, I felt Edward step closer in behind me. His warm breath was on my neck. That…inexorable presence he had when he was this close…it was inescapable…undeniable. Painful, almost.

I felt his hands slip around my waist. This wasn't the stupid spark of adrenaline of him grabbing my wrist or brushing past me. This…this was the feeling I was so used to from the thousand times he'd lifted me in the air or spun me in a pirouette. It was almost a promise of something to come.

I heard his breathing in my ear, felt his fingers move slightly, as if settling back into their old position there. It was more than familiar…it felt natural. As natural as it would have to have turned around and…but no. I folded my arms across my chest, as if it would somehow protect me.

Meanwhile, Joseph stared at us, head cocked.

I felt a slight shift and knew Edward was giving him the raised eyebrow, "Got it?"

"Yeah," Joseph said with a nod.

Edward let me go and I was finally able to breathe again.

Joseph and I ran through it once more. The holding really had been the only issue, as it turned out. Suddenly everything became so much easier. He wasn't Jacob…but he was capable.

"So," he said, flicking his hair away as we finished the sequence for the fourth time. "We done? I'm starving…"

Edward nodded from his seat, "Sure. Well done." He stood up and gave his 'student' a pat on the back. "It's looking good."

Joseph gave him a shy smile and, with a rude sense of urgency, grabbed his bag and rushed out the door.

Edward and I both watched him go.

"I don't think he likes us," Edward said evenly.

I rolled my eyes and began packing up my stuff.

I heard Edward sigh, "So you've gone back to the silent treatment?"

My ribbons were being stubborn. I rummaged around in my bag for a bobby pin.

"Lauren seems much happier," he said nonchalantly. "She's decided to stay on."

I smirked, shoving the metal into the knot, "Talking to me about Lauren won't help you. I only recall apologizing to _her."_

I didn't look up as he leaned against the barre right next to me. "So you actually think you have something to apologize for?"

I wrenched the ribbons free, ignoring the sound of ripping and tossing them into my bag. "Let's not get into apologies owed."

I yanked the zip closed and stood up.

He looked at me calculatingly, "I'm just waiting for the right time to apologize." He looked me up and down, "The time when you might actually believe me."

"That's going to be an awfully long time," I muttered.

Those green eyes missed nothing, "What's changed, Bella? Two days ago we were actually being civil to each other and now…" he just gestured to me like it was obvious.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and folded my arms, "Jacob told me the reason why he hates you." I felt a little fight come back into me. I stared up at him. How could Edward do such a nasty thing?

Edward took a deep breath and then nodded, "And you're still with him."

"Of course I am," I snapped. I looked at him, trying to find that shred of guilt in his eyes, but nothing was there. "I don't understand," I said quietly. "You took everything from him. You took his girlfriend and his entire career in the space of a day." I stepped closer, still searching those emerald eyes for something. "But you don't feel sorry?"

Edward swallowed, "It wasn't my fault he decided to get drunk."

"You were the _reason _he felt the need to get drunk, Edward; is it that much of a sin after you had betrayed him? He lost the girl he loved to his _best friend,_ who he thought he could trust implicitly!"

Edward turned away, leaning forward onto the barre, his knuckles white, "I didn't ever mean for it to happen the way it did."

"What?" I said. "So you just thought that if he didn't find out about your relationship to whoever it was, it wouldn't be a problem? You could just keep stabbing him in the back until he moved on?"

Edward turned back around, his eyes suddenly…desperate. Desperate with guilt, "It was only one kiss, Bella. And I told her it couldn't happen."

"'_One kiss'," _I muttered bitterly. "Believe me, Edward, because I know from experience, one kiss is all it takes to get your heart ripped out."

"Bella," he whispered, stepping toward me. But I backed away. He stopped and just looked at me.

"But what I don't get," I said quietly, "Is why you _told _me to ask Jacob why he hates you. Why would you do that? This only makes me more against you than ever."

Edward sighed, "I thought it would be enough…"

"Enough to what?"

He looked at me, "Enough to show you that Jacob is reactive. That he gets angry when he doesn't get what he wants and then he goes and does something stupid like getting drunk before a performance."

"I don't blame him for that," I said. "That is all on you."

Edward shook his head, "But it's still a fact that when Jacob doesn't get what he wants, he retaliates. Bella, he hasn't properly danced a lead role since before his injury in Giselle. He is expecting to get the same reception I've been getting all these years and when he doesn't, he's not going to blame himself – he's going to blame you."

"Seriously?" I scoffed in disgust. "You're so full of it. And if you actually think this'll make me like you more, you're _really _delusional."

"I'm not trying to make you like me again, Bella," he said exasperatedly. "I know what I did is unforgivable. I just want you to think about who you're dealing with."

I rolled my eyes, "Whatever."

I spun around and headed for the door.

"Bella!"

I glanced back at him and his desperate face. "What?"

He took a deep breath, "Jacob didn't tell you the full story. There's so much more that you don't know."

I turned to face him fully, raising my eyebrow, "Go on, then. Enlighten me."

He faltered. "I…can't."

"Great," I muttered and reached for the handle.

"It's not my story to tell," he said quickly. "I was…more a spectator. But I promised not to tell."

"Then whom should I call upon?" I asked sarcastically.

"I can't tell you," he replied. "This person…they're difficult and they don't want anyone to know. I have to respect their wishes."

I just rolled my eyes, "Typical."

Then I pushed out the door and got away from that stupid, arrogant, ridiculous boy as quickly as possible.

* * *

><p>Hmmm...I wonder who it could possibly be...<p>

Any guesses?

I'm sorry this is a short chapter but you know the section I accidentally wrote last chapter? Well...I need it for _this _chapter and it's kind of stuck on a laptop on the other side of the World now...I will endeavor to get it very soon! Promise! I am sooooo disorganized...

**Hope you enjoyed! Flick me a review and tell me your suspicions!**

**Thanks so much for being the most amazing readers ever!**

**Amberdeen :)**


	27. Chapter 26b

Can this be?!

Yes, it can! Yay!

I am incredibly sorry for the past five months of silence!

I haven't exactly been lying dormant because this year has been crazy but I have missed Bella and Edward and you guys so much!

It's a long list, but summarized: lead in production, homework, internals, concert thingys, auditions, homework, internals. And I fell in love (sigh!) with the guy who played male lead in the production...which is kinda similar to Bella and Edward...except that he doesn't wear tights and we have thankfully not had such drama...

**But onto what's important...**

**Thank you so much for all the reviews and support over the last five months!**

**Now more than ever, I am finding it very hard to find time to do any writing but your amazing reviews have forced me to do just that!**

**So thank you from the bottom of my heart! Merci!**

So I really hope you enjoy this chapter. It is not quite as originally intended because I never did retrieve that file from the other side of the world, despite three computer savvy family members being over there at different times (silly me...).

**So please review! Tell me if I'm too rusty...**

**And Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>Oblivion - Bastille (and their whole album - so good)<em>

_The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe Soundtrack - Harry Gregson-Williams_

_The Royal Ballet's Romeo and Juliet with Lauren Cuthbertson and Frederico Bonelli_

* * *

><p>Days passed and the show was finally beginning to come together, not that I cared very much – I was just glad that Leah was actually remembering her cue to rush in and worry over me and that the corps girls had stopped kicking me during the ballroom scene. There were scenes that still needed work, but I knew that Jacob and I were sorted and that was all that mattered. All our pas de deuxs were cleaned up and precise. Of course, we would never stop working on them, but at least Helen was happy.<p>

Carlisle had thankfully been too busy with the corps to sit in on our rehearsals and Edward was also occupied – he had pretty much become a teacher, usually working with the boys in the corps. Robbie and Seth maintained that he was a great instructor, not that they ever admitted it when Jacob was around. They should've known that it irritated me just as much.

I was still sickened by Edward – how could I not be? He had hurt not only me but Jacob as well and then he had had the nerve to tell me that he just 'wanted me to know who I was dealing with' when it came to Jacob. All I could think of was how I wished someone had told me who I was dealing with before I'd gotten so close to _Edward. _He was the one and only backstabbing, hypocritical bastard here. Not Jacob. And so I had made a point of avoiding him more than ever, and returning every single one of his mournful looks with the most venom I could conjure.

"Better, Bella," Helen Fortescue said as I finished my variation. "The port de bras is quite something."

"Thank you," I said, grabbing a sip of water and wiping the sweat off my neck. "I was working on it this morning."

She smiled, "You and Jacob are so dedicated."

I heard a small, indignant sniff from the corner of the studio where Tanya had sat for the duration of the rehearsal, texting. "Problem?" I asked politely.

Tanya looked up and gave me a snarky look – her sickly sweet smiles just didn't have enough conviction anymore. "Nothing."

I smiled, "Good." I looked to Helen, "From the top?"

We only got halfway through the variation before there was a knock on the door and Lauren entered.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said, sounding very unapologetic. I finished my fouetté set as she watched – Helen had taught me not to stop halfway through a movement.

"Yes?" I said, finally finishing. I never really knew how to act around Lauren – she was _Force _but had become a regular member of our dining table. She and Leah spent a lot of time together, sniggering away, probably making plenty of rude comments about the other dancers. But even though she seemed happier, I still couldn't shake the sense of guilt over how I'd treated her before I'd known about her sister.

Now, she gave me a distasteful look, "The costume department needs your measurements."

"I'm in a rehearsal," I said. Costumes hardly mattered to me anymore – I was past the sequins and the elaborate sets. All I cared about was my technique – that was what I would be judged on by the audience. "They can come get them later."

"They need them now," she said. "Or you'll probably end up dancing naked."

Tanya giggled from her corner as Lauren left, "I'm sure Bella would love that – loose woman that she is."

Helen turned to her, "I beg your pardon, Miss Denali?"

Tanya blanched, "Sorry."

Her look of fear put me in enough of a good mood to thank Helen, grab my bag and leave.

One of the studios on the third floor had been converted into a temporary wardrobe. It was a complete mess – rows and rows of clothes racks, narrowly placed, with costumes sticking out or on the floor, and the whole of the female company chattering and undressing, tights flying everywhere as they grabbed their costumes and laced each other into their court dresses and peasant skirts.

"Excuse me," I muttered, pushing through the girls by the door as I spotted a costume lady near one of the mirrors. There were a few exclamations as I waded through the mayhem of twenty-something excited girls, probably enjoying what was the most exciting part of the whole production for them. I reached the costume lady, who was on her knees, pinning up a prostitute's hem.

"Excuse me," I shouted over the noise. "I'm lead – I need to be measured right now."

"I'm busy," the woman muttered, five pins pressed between her lips.

"I'm playing Juliet," I said. "I've got a rehearsal to be at."

She just gave me a look and went back to her pinning. I huffed and squeezed through a few more dancers, trying to find another seamstress. "I'm lead!" I repeated when I finally found another, who was frantically mending a bodice. "I really can't waste any more rehearsal time here!"

"We're a little busy here, honey," she said irritably.

I rolled my eyes in exasperation, "Seriously? You can do that anytime you want!"

Just as the woman recoiled with a murderous look, I felt a hand grab my own.

"Bella!" Alice exclaimed. "Need a hand?"

"Please!" I said in relief and let her pull me away from the nostril-flaring woman to a pedestal in the corner, putting some distance between us and the raucous.

Alice grinned at me, "You stand up there, I'll go grab your dresses."

"Thanks," I said, quickly undoing my shoe ribbons and peeling off my scarlet leotard.

"It's crazy in here, right?" Alice said, bustling back with four flimsy-looking dresses. "I came in to fix my old fluro tutu and ended up fitting a dozen sweaty gentlemen of Verona and now half of these guys." She gestured to them all as she hooked my dresses over the barre.

"How long will this take?" I asked.

Alice frowned slightly as she slipped the first dress off its hanger, "As long as it takes. You have the best costumes in the whole thing," she said chattily. "You even get a veil!"

"I'm more interested in rehearsals," I muttered as she helped me climb into the dress. It was a pale gold ball gown, with frilled sleeves that came just past the elbow and a half bodice – enough length to give the idea of the court but short enough so as not to restrict my movements. The skirt fell in two layers – one cream satin and one gold, translucent tulle – down to my shins.

"Rehearsals are rehearsals," said Alice. "But this dress?" She smiled at me as she kneeled, "It's beautiful, right?"

"Sure." I wished I'd had my phone with me to check the time, but no such luck. So I contented myself with shutting my eyes and running through the variation I'd just rehearsed, trying to apply all of Helen's feedback, along with what I had already noticed myself. _Breathe in to lift the chest, put the arms into second, remember the beat…_

"…Bella?"

"What?" I said, opening my eyes.

Alice looked up at me, "I was asking how you're doing? We've hardly seen you since getting here."

"I've been busy," I said.

She laughed, "I've noticed. Arms up!" She began pinning the sleeves. "We should go out sometime - just me, you, Rose, Jazz and Emmett. Tonight, maybe?"

"I have rehearsal," I said.

"Tomorrow night?" Alice pressed. "That way you can avoid the crazy pre-performance drinking those Royals are so fond of."

"I am a Royal," I replied, starting to feel exasperated again.

"Right," she said with an apologetic smile. "But still – pizza and Emmett taking his nerves out on us with some of his horrific jokes?"

"I have rehearsal."

Alice frowned and raised her eyebrow at me, "Come on, Bella! One teeny night out won't kill you. And I can show you those leotards I promised I'd design for you last year! Get you out of that monotonous red…"

I huffed, "I'm _lead, _Alice; I have more important priorities than wearing ridiculous leotards and eating pizza – ow!"

"Sorry," Alice said quickly, carefully putting the pin where it was actually meant to go. She didn't look at me as she spoke, "It's just that I've missed you – we all have. And I know that Edward is around sometimes and that makes it difficult, but he doesn't have to get in the way of our friendship."

"Jesus," I muttered, putting my arms down, sick of the whole thing. "Alice, I really couldn't care less about friendships right now."

Alice took a deep breath and went behind me to unlace the dress. "And what about your relationship with Jacob?"

"That is what Jacob understands!" I exclaimed. "All that matters is dance and nothing else."

Alice silently helped me step out of the ball gown and into a white night gown with gold embroidery. She seemed to be thinking, her expression uncommonly stiff. I was about to go back into my variation when she quietly said, "But what if dance is the _only _thing Jacob cares about?"

"That's not what I meant," I said. "He cares about me as well. It's just that he knows what is most important to both of us."

Alice looked uneasy as she began pinning up the hem again. "If you're sure. We're just worried about you, Bella; you're always so tired and – "

"Who's 'we'?" I asked sharply.

Alice sighed and stood up, setting her pin cushion down on a box. She looked at me with her big, worried eyes, "All of us; me and Jasper, Emmett and Rosalie…"

"And Edward," I said, then gave an off-sounding laugh. "Great. More of his bullshit."

"Actually, Bella," Alice said testily, tugging at a shoulder strap. "This has nothing to do with Edward. Believe it or not, we used to be friends. Remember?" Her expression softened and she smiled at me hopefully, her hands resting on my shoulders, "Remember Thanksgiving? And all those crazy times in the dining hall and the common room?"

I shrugged her hands off, "If you mean the day I found out I was getting thrown out of _Force _and all those times in the dining hall where either the First Years or Third Years or just the whole school was gossiping about me, then yeah – I remember."

Alice stared at me, "You're really just going to ignore our friendship?"

I sighed tiredly and pushed a hand through my hair, "Look, I've just moved on. I don't need you constantly mothering me anymore – fixing my makeup and playing dress up with me. Maybe I needed you when I was a First Year and I couldn't seem to stop tripping over and crying, but I've grown up since then."

Alice swallowed, looking me up and down, "I think I liked the old Bella better. Maybe she wasn't America's up and coming danseuse, but at least she was a nice person."

"You're jealous," I realized incredulously, looking at her. "You're actually jealous of me, aren't you?"

"What?" she recoiled, a laugh bubbling to her lips. "Are you kidding me?"

I shook my head in disbelief, "I'm sorry I outgrew you, Alice. I'm sorry I got better than you. I'm sorry I realized that the way to get to the top was to work hard and not spend all your time in love with some guy who will also inevitably surpass you but now I'm on my way and I'm not going to let you or anyone else hold me back. And I guess I'm sorry that holding people back is all you can do because you're too short to really make a career out of this."

Alice froze. Her face filled with hurt and disbelief. Suddenly, the point of my tirade flew out of my head, and I was left standing there, just as dumbstruck as her.

Alice pressed her lips together, swallowing stiffly. As if she were about to break. "I can't believe you just said that," she whispered.

I couldn't either. But I wasn't going to let her know that. "Believe it," I said stiffly. "I meant every word."

The door to the costume room opened.

"Ali!" Jasper called. "Can you come for lunch? Ed and I were – "

Alice turned from me and ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist. He frowned in confusion but pulled her tightly against him anyway, curling her head into his chest. Both he and Edward looked up to where I stood on the pedestal.

"Just give up, Edward," I heard Alice whisper hopelessly. "She's gone."

As Jasper guided her out of the room, Edward stared at me, his endless eyes searching my face for something. Whatever it was, he didn't find it. I kept my stare cool and steady. I wasn't going to let him win again. I guess he realized this, too, because after a moment, he broke my gaze and left – no words said.

\*\*/*/

There is something about the feeling of a theatre stage that cannot quite be described. I stood in the middle of the stage, staring out at the thousands of seats – three tiers of them, stretching up and back so far...It seemed so much bigger from here than it had when I'd come in from the audience doors. The audience just saw a box by which they expected to be entertained and awed. But it was just a box; no matter how much energy it took me to jeté across the stage, I would still look small to them. Still insignificant. And they would still look so formidable to me. It was hardly a balanced exchange.

And yet, if they liked me, that exchange would suddenly turn in my favour. Tomorrow night, I would stand in this very spot and curtsy to this huge cathedral. And if they liked me, I would hear the cheers of almost three thousand people, all thanking me for my hard work. All in awe of me. I wanted that more than anything.

I needed their praise. I had thought carefully about what I had said to Alice and I knew I had been right; I didn't need her mothering. I didn't need Emmett's inappropriateness or Rosalie's snarky comments. I didn't need Master Carlisle or his scholarship to _Force. _I didn't need Caius. I didn't need Angela. I didn't need anything but the audience and myself. Together, I would become what I was really meant to be; a ballerina so close to perfection that only two people would know any different.

"Roomy, isn't it?"

I spun around. Jacob gave me a grin as he came out of the wings, dumping his bag at the back of the stage. For a second, I let myself enjoy the sight of my incredibly well sculpted partner in his fitted scarlet t-shirt and black tights as he stretched out. I was one lucky girl. Easily bending down to place his hands on the floor, he looked up at me, "You ready?"

I nodded, putting my silly thoughts and sentimentalism to the back of my mind and getting into focus.

We had arrived an hour early – as long as Helen had been able to get us – to run through things before the chaos of the technical rehearsals began. It was in beautiful silence that Jacob and I worked together, neither of us needing the music to be in time. We both had such focus and such an intimate knowledge of the other's moves that one wrong twitch was noticed by the both of us. We could no longer rely on mirrors, but we had each other, which was now almost as good. Of course, Jacob was still ahead of me – one step closer to perfection that I would ever be – but it didn't stop our partnerships from being one of the most cohesive partnerships Helen Fortescue had apparently ever seen.

The time passed quickly and sooner than I would have liked, the doors open and the rest of the cast came in in a loud mob. I tried not to, but I couldn't help but look for Alice. She walked behind everyone else, holding Jasper's hand. I hadn't been at dinner last night so I hadn't seen either of them since they'd left the costume room. They seemed to be talking quietly to each other, in that way they'd always had.

"Do they actually function as individuals?" Jacob muttered, seeing where I was looking.

"God knows," I replied, quickly looking away from them. Of course, my eyes then settled on Edward as they all walked down the aisle to the stage. He was surrounded by most of the corps boys, who were all asking for last minute advice. _Including _Seth and Robbie. Edward smiled as he replied to them, looking perfectly at ease. Well, it wasn't really like he had anything to worry about, being understudy and all – he only needed an ironed shirt and dress shoes.

Though of course he was in a white t-shirt and track pants, his dance bag slung over one shoulder. If I was him, I'd have left as soon as I'd gotten the role of understudy, not played teacher and pretended that I was somehow still important to the production.

"Coming through!" came a call, breaking apart Edward's fan club. All I could see were two coffee cups bobbing up and down above the heads before Danny finally burst through, hurry up the temporary stairs and onto the stage. "Two double shot espressos!" she said proudly, handing them to us.

"Thank you," I said with a grin. Finally – energy.

"Aren't I just the best prostitute ever?" she said bouncily.

Gerry came onto the stage shaking his head, "I don't think prostitutes are judged on their coffee delivery, Danny."

She poked her tongue out at him and then bounded into the middle of the stage, "God, I've missed this place!"

"It's not as grand as the Bolshoi," I heard Rosalie say as she and Emmett climbed the stairs.

"It's bigger," I said – I'd forgotten how irritating her Russian snootiness could be.

Rosalie paused, taking her hand away from Emmett's arm and coming to face me. "You know, Bella," she said, saying my name like it was one of her Russian insults. "Size isn't everything, though you clearly think that your five extra inches make you the best dancer the world when anyone with actual sense knows that Alice is ten times the dancer you'll ever be."

I scoffed, "Right, so – "

She held up a hand, "I'm not finished." Rosalie smirked at my silence, "Size isn't everything, but since you are so preoccupied with it, let me tell you something." She stepped in closer, so that I could smell her perfume and all I could see was her powdered face and glaring eyes, "When you insult Alice or Edward or any one of us, you don't just screw them over; you screw all of us over. And believe me," she leaned in even closer. "That is a very, very big mistake."

I gritted my teeth. I was not going to let her words achieve their purpose. "Get away from me," I murmured.

Rosalie just smirked and stepped back. We both realized the silence that had overcome the cast. They were all watching. "And for those of you who don't know," Rosalie said clearly, for everyone to hear. "Our leading lady thinks she is far too good for anyone else and thinks that she is the only one capable of playing any of our roles – in particular, Lady Capulet. Even though the current dancer actually looks human when she dances," she cocked her head, looking at me condescendingly. "Unlike her highness."

"Rose…" Edward began, stepping out from the crowd. He looked at me in concern, "Enough."

Rosalie shrugged happily, "I'm done."

"Tell me when they get to my scene," I muttered to Danny, then pushed past the cast members, who all stared at me with looks of disgust.

\*\*/*/

I spent the next few hours in a dressing room tucked down the back of the labyrinth of corridors behind the stage. I ran through my variations one after the other, checking myself in the mirrors as I went. There was probably a better practise room somewhere but then I would have run the risk of someone interrupting. And I _really _didn't want to be interrupted. I just wanted these rehearsals to be over with and tomorrow night to come so that I could be on that stage _without _the judgemental eyes of half the cast on me.

_And without Rosalie freaking Hale! _I thought stonily, turning my fouetté a little too fast and falling off my pointe. "Shit," I muttered. That didn't happen very often anymore and when it did, it meant I had a severe lack of the one thing I asked of myself these days; focus.

It was Gerry and Amanda who eventually tracked me down. They came in cautiously, shutting the door quietly behind them, and waited until I'd finished my final variation.

"You okay?" Gerry asked as I went straight from my finished pose into the splits.

"Never better," I replied, touching my forehead to the floor.

"Carlisle was asking for you," Amanda said in her usual quiet voice. "They had to get Tanya to do the first act dancing."

"It's only a tech run," I said. There wasn't really any dancing in a tech run – there was just a lot of stopping and starting as the lighting guys work out what they're doing and the backstage crew find their feet. I stood up and went into my penche en pointe. "She can have her glory moment."

I smiled as Amanda blinked in astonishment, seeing the ease at which I held my penche for. Oh, it was so easy now compared to how it had been just a few weeks ago. If only it was in the choreography…but I still did it, just to reassure myself that all was well.

"We're starting the first real run through soon," Gerry said. "Carlisle gave us a thirty minute break but it's taken us this long to find you…"

"And you have to get into your costume," Amanda reminded me. I noticed she was already in her pale brown peasant's dress.

I slowly came up from my penche into a normal arabesque, keeping tight control of my speed.

"Bella?" Gerry said. "Do you want us to go get Jacob?"

"Why would I need him?" I snapped, bringing my leg straight down. "I said I'm fine so I'm – "

"Bella." Edward entered as if he had total right to, concern dormant on his face. He only gave Gerry and Amanda half a glance before advancing on me.

"What are you doing here?" Gerry asked, putting himself between us. Edward was tall but Gerry matched him.

Edward glared at him for a moment, looking Gerry up and down. But then he glanced at me, those emerald eyes as perceptive as ever, and stepped back, holding his hands up in surrender, "Probably doing the same thing you're already doing; checking on Bella."

I let out an exasperated sigh, "I don't need anyone checking on me!"

"You do," Edward said to me over Gerry's shoulder. He looked at me in my leotard as though I wasn't meant to be in it. "Clearly."

Gerry turned around to face me, "Maybe you do, Bella."

My mouth dropped open. "You're all delusional," I muttered, storming past them both and out into the corridor. I ignored the scent of Edward which seemed to come with me. _Bastards._

* * *

><p>I've already started the next chapter and am currently having a few days' break sooooo...shall we start the clock at forty eight hours?<p>

Thanks so much for reading! I'm really sorry for the break! Hope it's still okay :)

**Please review and tell me your thoughts on our poor Bella! And Alice...**

**Amberdeen :)**


	28. Chapter 27

Hi all!

I'm in a terrible rush - going skiing but spent all day writing so now we're very, very late!

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed!**

**You made me feel much better about the chapter! Though don't worry - still guilty for the five months...**

Five thousand five hundred word chapter so I hope you enjoy :)

Please review and let me know your thoughts!

* * *

><p><em>English Rain (album) - Gabrielle Aplin (great stuff!<em>)

* * *

><p>"Where have you been?" Jacob hissed backstage, sweat on his forehead after finishing his variation. "Diva moments aren't meant to last that long!"<p>

Perhaps I should've been annoyed at him, but our relationship wasn't a childish one and after my previous encounter, he was refreshingly uncaring. He knew I could handle it, unlike Edward and Gerry.

"Tech runs are boring," I muttered. "Have fun with Tanya?"

Jacob smirked, "What do you think?"

I smiled, "Good. Now…" I swept onto the stage to meet with my 'nurse'. Leah, all dressed up in a big thick dress with a huge turban-like thing around her head and under her chin. I guessed it was some kind of bonnet...

She looked about as excited to see me as I was to see her, but she made a great 'o' shape with her mouth when I came running in. Then, the game of stealing and hiding a teddy bear began. It was incredibly boring to dance, not that you could call it dancing. It was literally running around the stage with a teddy bear. The only good bit was when I finally got it back and jetéd across the width of the stage. Though even then…there were definitely more interesting scenes. I just wished my entrance could be more spectacular.

"More playfulness, Bella!" It scared me half to death – Carlisle's voice booming through the theatre's sound system. All I could see when I looked out was a row of three lights halfway up the stalls. I guessed that was him.

Rolling my eyes, I continued, Leah giving me bored looks the whole time until eventually Alice and Jasper appeared.

I'd forgotten about this – my beloved parents coming to introduce Paris – or Jonah or Joseph or whatever his name was – to me. Everything felt incredibly awkward to me, and yet Jasper and Alice strode out, hand in hand, as though we really were in Juliet's bed chamber. They smiled at me adoringly, then Alice broke away from Jasper to come and kiss me on the cheek and hold my hands in hers. She stared into my eyes with all the love in the world. And she wasn't even that much shorter than me…_character shoes, _I realized. And a big headpiece. I stared back with total surprise, a slight frown on my forehead; _how could she act this nice?_

"Miss Swan!" Carlisle again… "Some character, if you please."

I huffed and looked up into the endless sea of seats but still couldn't really see his face.

The scene continued on, Joseph doing his best in the lifts. And then Jasper, who I thought would have killed me by now, came and gave his beloved daughter a kiss and a hug and then everyone left. After another short snippet of teddy bear stealing, the scene was over.

"You need to look at that scene, Bella," Carlisle's voice said for all to hear.

"That's so unnecessary," I muttered to Jacob as I came off.

He just smiled and secured his black mask onto his face, "You'll get used to it…and learn to ignore it."

The show went on. It seemed like every time I stepped on stage, it was Carlisle's cue to tell yell 'character!' through the microphone.

But Jacob was right – I had to learn to ignore it. Our pas de deuxs were beautifully fluid – so close to our goal. My variations were also right where I needed them to be and I knew it. And Carlisle knew it, too. He was just looking for a different Juliet whom I had no intention of giving to him.

By the time I'd finally died on a stone plinth in the middle of the stage, I was about ready to die in real life. The full ballet was so tiring – variation after variation, pas de deux after pas de deux and excessive amounts of mime, all under the hundreds of hot stage lights. Not to mention the costume changes and the endless awkwardness with Alice and Jasper coming on stage and acting like I was their adorable daughter.

"Alright! If you would all please sit for a moment," Carlisle's voice boomed through once more as we completed the curtain call.

"He should've rehearsed for the extra curtain calls," Adela murmured as the rest of the Royals came to sit with Jacob and me. "They always have them."

"And the big standing ovation," Danny added excitedly, elbowing me.

I frowned, "NFSI's usually get curtain calls?" Extra curtain calls occurred when the audience just kept on clapping past the end of the bows – the principles would then have to come on, bow and go off again as many times as it took for the audience to stop clapping.

"Of course," Danny said. "I mean, at least four or five. Not quite Pavarotti but close enough."

I smiled for the first time in hours at that idea – standing ovations and curtain calls at the age of seventeen? Not bad…

Carlisle then appeared in front of us – in the flesh this time, with his leather bound notebook in his hand. Helen gave us a smile as she, Caius, Jeffrey Evans, Vicky, Mrs Tia, Mr York and Mark all came to stand behind Carlisle.

"Well done, everyone," Carlisle began. "For our first dress rehearsal, you are doing a good job. Just a few notes…"

I braced myself for every second note being 'Bella – Character!' but it never came. A couple of the courtiers needed to fix their port de bras, the prostitutes were not in the centre of the stage in their second scene, Gerry needed to keep up with Jacob during their sword fight…but nothing about me. Perhaps he was thinking I was perfect, but I sincerely doubted it. After Carlisle finished his eight pages, the other tutors were given a chance to speak. Jeffrey only had feedback for the USB students, Vicky was being nit-picky about the girls in the bedroom scene when they discover me 'dead'. Despite my dislike for her, she had a point – if they saw me lying there dead then why would they spend the next five minutes dancing happily?

"Is Edward here?" Carlisle said once Mark had told all the guys that if they didn't shave, he would do it for them, on stage before the performance. "I believe he had some notes for the peasant boys."

The guys concerned all sat up a little straighter. _Is he giving them drugs or something? _I thought. Didn't they pay teachers and academies to teach them dance?

"He's on the phone," Vicky said.

Helen frowned, "Well that's not acceptable for – "

"No," Carlisle said with a reassuring smile. "It's important." He glanced at his watch and looked back to us, "Alright, everyone. Take a two hour break and we'll meet back here at four for the next rehearsal. Curtain up at four thirty."

There was a chorus of 'thank yous' as everyone stood up to go.

"Miss Swan." Carlisle stood in front of me, his expression the normal polite expression he had – the one that never gave you any indication as to what he really thought of you, "I'd like to speak with you in private."

Jacob rolled his eyes, "We need to rehearse, Carlisle."

Carlisle ignored him, "Miss Swan?"

"I'll see you soon," I muttered to Jacob. Carlisle walked into the wings and I dutifully followed, aware of the cast watching me go. Always the gentleman, he held open the door for me into the first dressing room he came to.

I stood there awkwardly in the middle of the dressing room, fidgeting with my fingers. Carlisle sighed, shutting the door, muffling the sounds of everyone else packing up. He didn't say anything – he just leaned back against the edge of the makeup bench and folded his arms.

I had never seen him like this before. He didn't look at me, just stared at the floor, thinking. He seemed calm, as always, but usually he was to the point straight away, not staring off into the distance.

I shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, not knowing what to do. Had it been any other teacher, I would have demanded he talk before I simply left…but not Carlisle. There was still something there, left over from my time at _Force _which I couldn't shake. Despite being on the other side now, despite knowing that he didn't fight hard enough for me to stay, despite the fact that he seemed to enjoy picking on me…he was Master Carlisle – the great danseur of the Paris Opera Ballet and the principal of _Force de la Beauté _who had, for a while, treated the old Bella Swan as one of his top students when she was anything but. That didn't mean that I wanted to like him, though. I wished that my feelings toward Carlisle were as clear as they were toward Rosalie or Edward.

Eventually, he exhaled tiredly, "Bella...I'm disappointed in you."

I huffed; maybe it wouldn't be so hard to dislike him after all. "Thanks."

Carlisle ran a hand over his chin, "I can't think of another way to say it." He frowned, finally looking at me. His eyes were as commanding as ever, looking at me distantly, as if trying to see something deeper. Just like Edward had done yesterday. "You were one of the most passionate dancers I have ever encountered, Bella. The feeling you put into your dance was so raw, you reduced a whole theatre to utter silence."

"I prefer standing ovations to silence," I said.

Carlisle shook his head, "You used to enthral people, Bella; your classmates, your friends, the audience at the review. Even when you auditioned for _Force, _Esme and I both came out marvelling." He pushed off the bench and came to stand in front of me, his face so honest that I could not look away. "You have the potential to be one of the greatest ballet dancers of your generation. In the _world." _

"Let me guess," I said shakily. "So long as I'm Edward's partner and miraculously find a way to come back to _Force?"_

Carlisle sighed and folded his arms again, "This has nothing to do with Edward. Perhaps he was your muse once, but I understand how that is unlikely to reoccur."

"It's impossible," I corrected him.

He waved a hand dismissively, "My point is that your talent is inside you – that passion is inside you. I'm not saying you have to partner with Edward or come back to _Force _– you simply need to dance as yourself again, without your constant concern for technique."

"Technique is what makes a dancer great," I said.

Carlisle shook his head, "Technique is what makes a dancer boring. I see it on your face when you dance, Bella. In fact, it's all I see; focus. You might dance the right steps but you don't get the meaning across. You don't get the story across. If you came on and danced your opening variation without costume or all those other dancers who are putting so much of themselves into this, I would have no idea who you were trying to portray. I would just see a girl so focussed on herself that she has no time for letting the audience in."

"Wonderful," I snapped. "So now you think I'm selfish, too?"

He looked at me, his eyes filled with sadness "No," he said softly. "I think you're trying to make sure that nothing that happened to you at _Force _ever happens to you again."

I stared at him. _I'm not going to cry. I won't…_because he was right…

"That's why you're turning your back on your old friends, on your old fears…on your dancing." He saw my expression and put a hand on my shoulder. I wanted so much for him to put his arms around me. To just…give me some comfort…Carlisle leaned down so his eyes were level with mine, "It doesn't have to be this way, Bella."

I dug my nails into my palm, "It's worked so far. I'm here. I'm lead." I took a deep breath, "And I'm happy."

"But are you sure you wouldn't be happier if you did change things, Bella?"

"I don't want to find out."

He took his hand off my shoulder, "I can't make you dance the way you used to."

"You can't," I agreed, crossing my arms tightly across my chest.

"But I can strongly advise you that you should, Bella. For yourself as much as for the whole company."

I shook my head, "But I have advice from others telling me that I am doing everything right." I swallowed, "And this feels right. Isn't dance about things feeling 'right'?"

"Do you really feel right dancing like this, Bella?" He gazed at me with those wise eyes, "Or is it just that you don't feel anything at all and that's easier than feeling pain?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, clearing my head of the turmoil. And when I opened them, I could look at Carlisle squarely, "All I know is that I have worked so hard since I arrived here and done far better than I ever dreamt of doing at _Force. _I don't want to be in tears, Carlisle. I don't want to be dependent on a good mood to dance well. I just want to dance. That is _all_ I want." I took a deep breath, "And now I need to go."

Carlisle hesitated, but then nodded and opened the door for me. "Do not forget what I've said, Bella."

"I won't," I said quietly, and went out into the cool corridor.

\*\*/*/

I tried to shut out the conversation as I walked around the theatre, trying to find Jacob. Carlisle had been right. But so had I. This was working. Monsieur Repin's technique was working. Being with Jacob was working. My dancing was too good to ruin now. So I would trust Jacob and Helen and not let my old head master sway me.

After asking a cleaning lady, I finally found a hallway with three rooms set aside for rehearsals. And Jacob. Staring into one of the rooms.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

He put a finger to his lips and beckoned me over. Curious, I peeked in through the window. There was Edward, just like the other night, going through some kind of complicated choreography. I swore I recognized it, but I couldn't place it. His t-shirt was drenched with sweat, his chest lifting fast. He jumped and spun tightly, easily landing on the balls of his feet. His green eyes were alight with energy – more alight than I had seen them since he had arrived. Though of course I tended to avoid looking at him.

"Do you know what he's rehearsing for?" Jacob asked me, pulling me away from the door and into another studio.

"No," I said, taking my hand away. "Why would I?"

He looked at me pointedly, "You spend more time with him than I do."

I frowned, "No I don't."

"You had a rehearsal with him."

I rolled my eyes, "Believe me; that was not of my own volition. Seriously, Jacob – I hate him as much as you do."

He looked at me for a moment, then sighed, "Sorry. I just want to know what he's up to."

"And those phone calls," I murmured, in line with his thoughts. "It must be important."

"We should find out what's going on," Jacob said resolutely.

I smiled at him, "I meant it must be important to him. But not to us, Jacob – we open tomorrow night. We're leads and he's an understudy." I put my arms round his neck in a half-embrace, though I wondered whether I was doing it as much for me as it was for him. "We don't need to worry about him or anyone else."

Rehearsal washed away the rest of my conversation with Carlisle, further vindicating what I'd said to him. My focus made me happier than arguing with Alice or getting the Russian treatment from Rosalie. Here, I was in my element.

The second dress rehearsal was both easier and harder than the first. Easier because Carlisle wasn't yelling at me through the microphone every two seconds. But far harder because my body had been dancing almost non-stop since five in the morning. It was frustrating – my leg wouldn't quite as high as I required and I just wasn't quite on the beat during the Balcony pas de deux.

"Rehearsal after this?" I muttered to Jacob as we stood in the wings for the final scene.

"Of course," he said, doing a couple of plies, his eyes focussed on a single point on the black painted floor.

Curtain call was once again followed by notes from the teachers. This time, Edward managed to make it halfway before his phone vibrated and he quickly strode out one of the exits, giving some kind of apology about rehearsals as he went. Jacob's gaze followed him the whole way. _He still reckons it's important, _I thought with a doting smile. _Crazy boy._

At the end, Carlisle shut his notebook and looked out at all of us, "Tonight is for resting. I want everyone to have at least ten hours sleep. There will be no missed cues tomorrow." He looked pointedly at Rosalie and Emmett, who gave his father a big grin. They'd both missed their first cues, though I doubted it was because they had fallen asleep. Carlisle shook his head but there was a smile on his lips as he continued, "Tomorrow will be relaxed – class will be at ten, followed by our final dress rehearsal. There will then be a good long break before make up, costume and then curtain up."

There were excited whispers from behind me – everyone realizing that it was finally here. Tomorrow was opening night.

"Sleep well," said Carlisle. "And well done to all of you; great work."

There was a round of applause for him and the other teachers. Everyone seemed to be in such high spirits as they packed up. As I looked around, I realized that suddenly the nice orderly groups of _Force, _Aro's and USB from the first day had been completely thrown out. The three main prostitutes – Danny, Rosalie and a girl from USB – all stood together, laughing at some chant they'd created.

Edward had returned once more, and the corps boys were plying him with more questions. Adela was kissing some USB guy on the cheek – I was guessing he was her partner in one of the scenes. Emmett and Gerry were engaged in an arm wrestle I'd vaguely heard them talk about backstage, evenly matched for once. The peasant girls all watched on, cheering. Alice and Jasper were with Joseph, Alice not quite able to resist fixing his collar. Leah and Lauren were off in a corner, sniggering about something in their usual way.

It was just me and Jacob who stood on the outside. _And Tanya, _I noted, looking up to the dress circle, where she'd sat texting for the whole day.

But when had all this happened? Even the teachers were all getting along, though Jeffrey Evans was still somewhat distant. I stared at the craziness in front of me…and then spun around and headed for the door, resolving to get dressed in the front of house bathrooms and then catch a bus straight back to the academy.

\*\*/*/

I had my pick of the studios when I got up to the third floor – the academy was deserted, which was perfectly fine by me. I went through the two scenes that had been bothering me in minute detail, making sure my leg was at the correct height for every slight change. I felt so tired – it sapped all my energy just fixing five different steps – but I wasn't going to stop. Tomorrow was opening night. Now more than ever, I could not slow down. I couldn't slip. And so I kept going, in my own little world while the Seattle night life went on in the streets below – my own warm cocoon.

But when I finally glanced at the clock and realized it was almost ten, I called Jacob – he was meant to have been here ages ago. It was engaged.

"Come on," I muttered, trying again. But no answer. Sighing, I pulled my cardigan on and headed back to the houses through the mild, dark night.

The USB and _Force _houses were both quiet but still had some lights on. Aro's house, however, was throbbing with music – and not the Prokofiev kind. Rolling my eyes, I zipped my card and entered the house. "Jacob?" I called with no reply. I checked the lounge, but no one was in there. Eventually, I found everyone was in the backyard – a place I had never been before – all squeezed into a hot tub, singing along to the music at the top of their lungs.

"Um," I spluttered. "Where'd this come from?"

"Bella!" Danny screamed excitedly, jumping out of the spa and throwing her wet body round me. I could smell the schnapps. "You're heeeeere!" She grabbed my hands and began bouncing up and down, "Gerry fixed the hot tub! Isn't it great?"

"Has anyone seen Jacob?" I asked them, politely detaching myself from Danny.

"Why do you always need him?" Leah said. "Afraid to be alone?"

I glared at her, "We were meant to have a rehearsal together."

"Rehearsals, rehearsals!" Danny chimed. She grabbed my hand again, "Come join us, Bella!"

"I can't," I said. Danny was apparently even more annoying drunk than she was sober.

"C'mon Bella!" Bridget said, holding up a paper cup. "It's good for your muscles!"

"And nerves," Amanda added, sipping shyly on a beer. _Well that is a sight I'd never thought I'd see…_

"I think Jacob was on the phone at the end of rehearsal," Robbie told me helpfully. He seemed to be slightly less sloshed than the others.

"Wait with us, Bella!" said Bridget. "And then you can go as soon as he gets here."

Leah smirked at me, "Nah – she's not going to do that."

I raised my eyebrows at her, "Really now?" With a mixture of defiance and a genuine need to do something stupid, I pulled off my cardigan and pushed down my leotard straps to a chorus of shouts.

"Alright!" Gerry said. "As the gay guy of the group, I am being the barricade! No peeking!" He lay himself across the corner of the spa, "Besides, I am by far the sexier one."

Grinning, I quickly pulled my tights off and my leotard back on. It looked like a swimming suit anyway. "I can't believe I'm doing this," I muttered as Gerry picked me up and put me in the spa.

"Now," Bridget said, handing out shot glasses. I really hadn't spent enough time in the house – where had all this stuff come from? She clumsily filled them up with vodka, "This is to a certain Russian who could do with a good dose of vodka."

"Her own medicine!" Adela giggled, wriggling onto Robbie's lap. He seemed pretty appreciative – her bikini didn't leave all that much to the imagination.

"Ehem!" Bridget raised her glass reverently. We all followed. It was to Rosalie – I really couldn't not join in her damning. "To Rosalie Hale! May she gain a great reputation with her current role as prostitute number one and never dare talk to our beautiful Bella again!"

"To Rosalie!" we shouted, clinking glasses and downing them with surprising speed. It was actually not half bad…

The toasts that followed ranged from the orchestra pit which Robbie had almost jetéd into today to Carlisle's damned microphone – my suggestion – to Helen's taste in blazers and Caius' sock choice.

"Polka dots?" I repeated, climbing on Gerry's lap to cool down a little. I had no idea what time it was – just that the sky was very, very dark and my fingers were amusingly wrinkled. And my muscles didn't ache for the first time ever.

"Polka dots," Paul replied gravely, taking a swig straight out of vodka bottle number-something. We'd given up on the shot glasses.

Adela made a face, "What are polka dots?"

Leah patted her on the head, "Poor foreigner."

"I'm not a foreigner!" Adela exclaimed, prodding Leah with her big toe. "I watched a _whole _baseball game! And everyone knows," she lounged back against Robbie's chest and kicked her leg high in the air, "That that is the great American bath time!"

I snorted on my beer, "Did you just say 'bath time'?"

"Nooooo," Adela said, wagging her finger at me, "…maybe…"

"I win!" I squealed, throwing my arms up in the air. And then Gerry picked me up by the waist and held me up over his head, my back arching .

"Point your toes, Miss Swan!" Bridget shouted in a really bad French accent. "Character!"

I poked my tongue out at her upside down as Gerry turned me. I was still laughing when we kept turning and I came face to face with one very, very unhappy looking Jacob Black.

"Where have you been?" I exclaimed, still staring at him upside down. It made me giggle.

"Gerry," Jacob said blankly. "Put her down."

"Meanie," I muttered, climbing out of the hot water and grabbing someone's towel off the table.

"We were meant to have a rehearsal," Jacob said.

I smiled, swaying slightly, "You didn't turn up! I was just waiting with them for you."

He looked me up and down, "I had to make some inquiries."

"About Eddie?" I asked. _It's cold…_I huddled into Jacob's chest, pressing my cheek against his t-shirt. He smelled yummy…

"Yes," he said, not putting his arms around me.

I pulled back, "Find anything out?"

He shook his head, "And then I come back to find you drunk and not rehearsing."

"We can still rehearse!" I exclaimed, grabbing his hand and pulling him back into the house with a wave to the other Royals, who were all watching on with grins. "I'll just grab my stuff, okay?"

"Bella, you probably couldn't do a plié right now," Jacob said as I pulled him up the stairs.

I laughed and stopped on the step above him, "Of course I can!" I put my hands on his shoulders and lifted my leg up into a penche. "See?" Maybe I was hanging onto him for dear life, but it was a penche nonetheless…

Jacob pushed my hands away and kept going up the stairs. "I can't believe you would do this to me."

"Jake!" I ran after him.

"Don't call me that," he snapped, rounding on me.

I stopped, swallowing nervously. If my brain wasn't so clouded, maybe I would've seen this as a good opportunity to leave. But it was and I wanted to make him feel better. "We never kiss enough," I said thoughtfully.

Jacob looked at me like I was weird, but I slowly went to him, reaching a hand up to touch his cheek. And then I went onto my sore tiptoes and kissed him. He didn't move. I kissed him harder, my tongue touching his lips, begging entrance. "I love you, Jacob," I murmured.

Jacob pulled away a little to look at me with those mysterious and suspicious eyes. I just blinked back at him, waiting.

And then it happened – his hands went to my hips, his lips attacking mine. Our tongues toiled. Swiftly, he lifted me so I could wrap my legs around his waist.

With one hand, he opened the door to my bedroom, his other hand on my butt. In the dark, he lay me down on my bed. I felt his weight on top of me and reached up to pull his mouth to mine once more. We were a tangle of lips and limbs. My hands slipped under his shirt to feel the warm skin of his muscled back. I shivered as his fingers ran up the damp fabric of my leotard, finding the clasp of the halter at the nape of my neck. I heard his shoes fall to the floor. The clasp came undone.

And Edward's face came into my mind.

"Wait," I said, pushing Jacob off me. He move back slightly. I sat up, shakily fastening the clasp again and switching on the light. "We can't."

"Bella – " he began.

"It's him," I murmured, staring at the rug on the floor.

Jacob gave me a disgusted look, "You still – "

"No," I said firmly. "I hate him." I looked at Jacob. "But there's something I need to do. Something I need to return to him."

I moved my legs out from under Jacob's and reached under the bed to pull out my suitcase.

"Bella," Jacob said as I went through the pockets, trying to find it. "If this is some kind of sentimental bullshit, I – "

"Here it is," I muttered, sitting back up.

Jacob stared at the ring in my palm. "He gave that to you?"

I nodded, watching as he took it and examined it more closely. "It was when I was in Forks with my ankle…" the sapphires winked in the light. "I know it's sentimental bullshit, but – "

"No," Jacob said quietly, looking at me with his eyes shining. "You should return it." He touched my cheek, "If it makes you feel better."

"It will," I told him. I pulled a pair of jeans and my _Collaianni _sweater, clutching the ring in my hand and trying to stay balanced.

Jacob gave me a kiss before I left. I giggled, "You're so sweet."

He gave me a rare smile, "Go, Bella."

My brief spurt of sobriety seemed to leave me as I tried to walk in a straight line along the pavement to the Class B house where _Force _was staying. I had another giggle as I imagined _the_ _Pink Panther _theme tune playing to the way I snuck up the garden path. Aro's security system wasn't all that great – if you had a student key card, you could get into any of the boarding houses. I slid it down the machine three times before finally getting the bar in the right place. The lights blinked green and the door clicked open. I slipped into the dark corridor – all the good little Forcians were in bed, though someone had left the kitchen light on. I could still hear Gerry's booming voice and Danny's giggles coming from our backyard.

The house was identical, so it was easy to find my way up the stairs. But then came the hard bit – how was I meant to find out which one was his? I didn't want to walk in on Rosalie and Emmett going at it…

As I crept along, one door on the left side lay open. The curtains weren't drawn, letting in the moonlight. There was no one in the bed. I tiptoed in. The scent…

This was definitely Edward's room.

I saw his Nike sports bag lying on the floor, his clothes lying around. I shouldn't have recognised them, and yet I did. Just like I noticed everything about him. The dark green sweater he had once leant me in a rainstorm hung over the back of the desk chair. I picked it up and, without thinking, breathed in. Oh, his scent…so enthralling to me, even now…I opened my eyes.

Something caught the corner of my eye. On the desk, there was a photo – the photo of us that Alice had taken in the studio that day. _"He's already taken the photo of you out of his picture frame." _ I stared at it. I thought he had thrown it away…and yet here it was. I gazed at myself, my arms around his neck, stretching up on stocking feet as he kissed me so gently. I remembered that kiss so very well. _Stop, _I told myself.

I put the photo back down, my fist clenched.

And that was when I saw it – the Royal Ballet letterhead. Pushing other papers out of the way, I picked up the document. It was a contract.

_Upon acceptance, the dancer _Edward Masen, _shall be committed to dancing the premier lead male role of _Prince Siegfried _for the Royal Ballet's full Winter season and World tour._

"Bella?"

* * *

><p>Hmm...thoughts?<p>

Hope you all have a loverly weekend! I'll try not to injure myself on the slopes so I can get a chapter out to you as soon as possible!

Thank you for being the most amazing and patient audience the World has known!

**And please review :) warm me up with a positive comment or make me jump of the ski lift with a constructive one - it all helps, really!**

Now to try and find a pair of matching socks...


	29. Chapter 28

Oops! Forgot an Author's Note...

Hello all! I am so sorry for the lateness this year. I got another role in a production and we had exams and other performance stuff and just a whole lot of tiredness.

But here it is :) And the next chapter is halfway through so I really hope I can get this out to you soon!

**Thanks to everyone has reviewed and stayed with me!**

**I'm so sorry I haven't done a lot of replies or posting but I really do appreciate it when you remind me that I have to get this done!**

**So thank you again! And again! And ten thousand more times!**

**And I really hope you review and enjoy this next one!**

* * *

><p>"Why haven't you signed this?" I demanded, ignoring Edward's surprise as he stood in the doorway. He was in jeans and a dark green shirt, making him look mature and important. <em>Just like the new principal dancer of the Royal Ballet should look. <em>I couldn't even begin to comprehend it. This was…beyond imagining.

Edward looked at the contract in my hands, and sighed, flicking on the light and shutting the door.

"Edward," I said. "This is the opportunity of – "

"Of a lifetime," he nodded. "I know." He pushed his hands into his pockets and walked towards me, "Why are you here, Bella? You should be resting." He frowned as he got a metre away from me, "Are you…drunk?"

It was at that moment that my stomach gave a big lurch. "Oh God!" I gasped and ran out the door, my hand clasped tight over my mouth until I burst into the nearest bathroom – the boys one – and threw up into the sink.

"Bella!" Edward exclaimed.

"Shit," I moaned.

Gently, he scooped my hair up, keeping it off my face as I let out everything I'd consumed in the last few hours. "Oh Bella," he murmured, rubbing my back.

I don't know what was wrong with me. His words, his familiar, warm hands, this ridiculous situation…the tears flooded my eyes before I even had chance to think. I grasped the sides of the sink and just cried. Sobbed like I was five years old. And then Edward was pulling me into his arms, holding me tight against him as I soaked his shirt.

"I'm so nervous," I whispered. "Edward, I'm so scared."

"You will be fine," he said softly, pulling me tighter. For the first time in a very long time, I felt secure. His arms held me to the earth, kept me from breaking into a million pieces. I knew it shouldn't have been with Edward – I did know that. But I also knew that I could not pull away or I would not be able to bear a single minute more of this weight I had only just realized I was carrying.

And yet he did not need to say a thing to alleviate it. He understood my fears, just like he always had. He just held me. He let me escape into the darkness of his chest and cry and cry and cry until there were no more tears to fall. I cried for a mess of reasons, one indistinguishable from the next. But it was like a dam had been broken – a build up of pain and fear and stress that I had been carefully keeping back. Every suppressed thought slipped out onto my cheeks, into Edward's shirt. The fear that I would muck up tomorrow tonight and every long, painful hour of rehearsal would be for nothing. The pain that I had felt when I'd turned my back on Alice and my friends forever. Rosalie's words…the shame they had really brought upon me. The strain of hour after hour of rehearsal. The fear that I would let Jacob down. Carlisle's cutting disappointment in me.

And the thought for the first time that perhaps…perhaps I had done something wrong. Perhaps I had made a mistake.

"None of this was meant to happen," I whispered. I don't know how much time we had been standing there for. But that had always been the way around Edward. I pulled back, looking up into his eyes through blurred vision. "I wish it hadn't." The pain of this one, honest fact racked my voice.

Edward gazed down at me. I let myself see the pain in his eyes. The guilt. I had always know it was there…but I had denied it. Until now. And the depth of such…agony…made one final tear slip down my skin. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice shaky. He swallowed. His hands had loosened around me. I missed them. His eyes closed, pain creasing his forehead, "I'm sorry I caused this."

I said nothing…I just touched his arm. His eyes flickered open, watching me closely. Hesitantly, he raised his hand to my face, letting his thumb brush over that one tear. "But I have," he murmured, watching as he traced the length of my cheekbone. "And there is no way to undo what I have done."

"Everything has changed."

He nodded, his thumb continuing its pattern upon my cheek. My eyes flickered shut, letting myself revel in his silent, gentle…familiar touch.

We stood like that…accepting impossibility and yet letting it live for a single moment. As if somehow that would be enough.

And when that moment was over, Edward stepped back. I opened my eyes, swaying slightly.

He gave a subdued smile, "You should be in bed. Not loitering in the boys' bathroom of your enemy school."

I tried to return it, "Well Leah's drunken snoring can't be much worse."

"You need your rest, Bella," he told me, then hesitantly said, "You can stay here if you want. No one will disturb you."

I blinked. An escape from the Royals' house…just for one night… "But where will you sleep?"

He rubbed the stubble on his chin, "I don't sleep very much anymore."

He had tried to sound nonchalant but we both knew why…I wanted to ask if he'd had the nightmare's I'd had. If he was okay…but I also knew that if I went down that road again I wouldn't be able to leave here at all.

So I put on a teasing smile, "Hypocrite."

Edward smirked at me, "I am not playing Juliet tomorrow night."

I laughed and started toward the door, "I should hope not – "

Edward caught me just as my knees buckled. Swiftly, he pulled me up into his arms. I tried to ignore the thrum of excitement my heart gave. "No more drinking on an empty stomach, Miss Swan," he said as I wrapped my arms around his neck, not looking at him.

"It wasn't that bad," I defended as he carried me out into the corridor.

He just gave me a look.

"Everyone else was!" I exclaimed.

"Was Jacob?" he enquired.

"Well…"

He laughed, kicking his bedroom door open, "I think I win."

He laid me down on his bed, his scent surrounding me completely. With a gentleness I hadn't experienced in a long time, he pulled the covers up over me, stroking back a piece of hair from my forehead. I watched him, his eyes looking at me with such care, my mind trying to remember every action so that they would not be lost to me forever…even after this night was over.

"I'll be back," he murmured, touching my cheek once more.

I watched him walk out the door, listening to his footsteps as he went down the corridor.

The contract lay on the floor where I'd dropped it. Prince Siegfried…the lead male of _Swan Lake. _Not only a challenging role, but one of the most loved ballets of all time with one of the World's top ballet companies. The Royal Ballet was better than the US Ballet. It was better than any company in America, really. The Kirov, the Paris Opera Ballet and the Royal Ballet – the three best companies the world has to offer. Edward was still a teenager – this was unheard of. To be offered a lead in their season's major ballet was beyond imagining. This would ensure him a fantastic, famous career. It would also take him far away from me. Out of America itself. There was a strong possibility that I might not see him for a very, very long time. Or not at all. He would just be on the cover of magazines and on the news and spoken about like a legend throughout the ballet world. But Edward would be gone.

He came back in holding a glass of water and some Tylenol.

"You never answered my question," I said as he paused in the doorway. I gestured to the contract, "Why haven't you signed it?"

He hesitated, then came to sit on the edge of the bed, "I just haven't got round to it yet. Drink," he handed me the glass of water.

I dutifully took it, but asked, "That's what you've been rehearsing, isn't it?"

He gave me the pills, "Yes."

I smiled, "Jacob was so worried about it."

"I bet he was," Edward murmured. He looked at me, "Will you tell him?"

It wasn't an anxious question, but I still hesitated, "I don't really see the point. He'll just worry…"

"Or try and stop it," Edward said, speaking my thought. He nodded at my expression, "I know he's already been trying to find out."

I sighed, "He doesn't need to. He got lead – I keep trying to tell him that. Why won't he just listen?"

Edward paused for a moment, then took my empty glass. "You should be asleep."

I frowned, but knew it was probably a good idea. He set the glass down on the desk as I slid back down into the bed. He sat back down, his hand almost going to rest on my hip, but then he seemed to think better of it and put it back in his own lap. Sadness panged in my chest.

"Thank you," I said quietly. "For taking care of me."

He smiled, "You won't be thanking me when you wake up." He hesitated, that crease appearing on his forehead again, "Why were you here anyway?"

I blinked. That. I swallowed and pulled the comforter up to my chin, "It doesn't matter. Just…being drunk, I guess."

Edward didn't buy it – of course he didn't. He was always good at seeing through my façade. But he didn't press me, just stood up and flicked off the desk lamp.

"Sleep well, Bella." He began to walk toward the door.

I couldn't bear it.

"Edward?" I said quietly, my mouth running off without my mind. He turned around, backlit by the light from the corridor. "Do you – " what was I doing? "Do you remember the night before exams?"

He looked at me, cautiously checking my expression.

"I just…" I swallowed, my throat constricting. "I just…well…I'm so nervous…" I couldn't say what I needed to say. Until it came to me, in a shaky, whispered voice. "I need you."

He shut his eyes with those three words, letting out a breath.

"Please," I was almost begging. "For one night."

Silently, Edward shut the door and walked to the bed, kicking off his shoes. My heart thudded. I moved over as he slipped under the covers. It was only natural, then, for him to wrap his arm around my waist, our bodies flush against each other, fitting completely. So warm…so perfect…so right. I curled my hand around his forearm and let the rise and fall of his chest, his breath on the nape of my neck…and the knowledge that he was here – that I wasn't lost – lull me to sleep.

Just like the night before his father had burst into my exam. Before he found out I was going to Aro's. Before our world fell apart. There was just the two of us, together in utter, beautiful perfection.

\*\*/*/

I woke to sunlight streaming through the windows, warming my face. It felt good after so many mornings of –

"Shit!" I yelled, sitting right up and then slamming a hand into my forehead as the pain ripped through my brain. "Hell…"

"Good morning to you, too."

Edward, fortunately for him, was no longer lying next to me as he had been for most of the night, but sitting at his desk, smiling at me patronizingly with a pencil in his hand.

"I'm late," I muttered, standing up and watching the room sway viciously.

"Bella," Edward said in his 'reasonable' voice, putting his hand on my shoulder to steady me.

"Get off me," I snapped, pushing his hand away. I pretended not to see the hurt in his eyes. Or how quickly it was replaced by a look of tired expectancy. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier?" I demanded, pushing my feet into my shoes, grudgingly gripping his bedside table for support.

"You need your sleep, Bella," he sighed, leaning back against his desk, watching my frenzy.

"That is none of your freaking business!" I exclaimed, wrenching my hair tie out from my tangled bun. "What time is it?"

"Ten to nine," Edward replied nonchalantly. "You have plenty of time to eat and get ready before class."

"No I don't!" I shouted, giving up on trying to fix my hair and just pushing it up into another bun. "I've missed my rehearsal!" I tugged my zipper up. "Shit! Shit, shit, shit!"

"Bella!" He stepped in front of me, taking me by the shoulders, and giving me a hard stare, "Calm down. It's all going to be fine."

He almost got me. He almost turned me back into the ridiculous, pathetic girl from last night. But I was no longer under the influence of the Royal Stash and I had already broken enough of my own rules. "Don't tell Jacob," I muttered and pushed past him and out into the corridor.

"Bella, please," he pleaded, but knew well enough not to continue.

I stormed down the corridor, almost running into Emmett, dressed only in a towel around his waist.

"Bella?" he exclaimed, almost dropping the towel in surprise.

I just kept going, ignoring Emmett dumbly asking Edward when on earth I'd come in.

_I just spent the night with Edward, _I thought as I hurried down the pavement and through the Royal's garden gate. _Oh God…_

"Shit," I muttered again, realizing I'd left my card, and banged on the door until someone opened.

"Woah!" Gerry exclaimed, staring at me as I rushed in and up the stairs.

_I spent the night with him…I spent the night with the guy I'm meant to hate…_

"Bella, finally!" Danny said, stepping out of her bedroom as I reached the landing, clutching a curling iron. "Jacob was – "

I cut her off by slamming my door behind me. Thankfully, Leah and Bridget were in the shower or whatever.

_I slept with him._

I couldn't stop thinking it as I shakily pushed my shoes off and pulled off my socks.

_I cried in his arms…_

Him! Edward!

I fiddled with the button of my jeans, my stupid headache making everything that much harder.

And then I noticed the glinting. The wink of those tiny sapphires. Edward's ring was on my pinkie finger and I had no idea how it had gotten there…I had been holding it on the walk to his house last night. _And then I'd found the contract. _It must have just been habit to have slipped it onto my finger.

I stared at it, sitting as a perfect fit below my knuckle. So delicate…beautiful.

"_Just a part of me to always be with you."_

"Bella." Jacob pushed open the door without even bothering to knock. With a jolt, I pulled the ring from my finger and pushed it deep into my sweater pocket.

"Hey," I said, swallowing. His eyes stared me up and down, taking in my chaotic state.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded, putting his hands on his hips. He was dressed and already there were sweat marks on his t-shirt from his – _our – _morning rehearsal.

My cheeks burned in shame. What had I done?

Jacob huffed and took a step closer, "You didn't come back last night, Bella. You went to _Edward _and you didn't come back." His gaze burned me. It was as if he could see every spot where Edward's skin had touched my own. "You look different. What did you do?"

"Jacob," I whispered, suddenly feeling very, very uncertain. Almost…vulnerable. I took a breath, "Look, Jacob, I was drunk and I was – "

"She was with me."

We both turned. Alice stood in the doorway, a business-like look on her face. She was, of course, dressed in one of her eccentric outfits. This time, it was a white lace leotard which seemed to creep up her neck like ivy, making her look like a Victorian lady. Her tights were nude, letting thigh high white legwarmers finish off the look. She was a saint.

Literally.

"What?" Jacob said, turning to look at me.

Alice held out my key card, giving me a hard look behind Jacob's back. "You forgot this."

"Right," I said quickly, taking it. Edward must have given it to her…

"I thought you were going to Edward," Jacob muttered, as if Alice couldn't hear us.

"She was," Alice said, giving Jacob a charming smile. "But she ran into me and I, unlike you, actually cared that she was running around completely trashed."

"Bella can take care of herself," Jacob snapped.

Alice scoffed, "She used to be able to but you know you took that away from her."

"Hey!" Apparently saints could be bitches… "I'm not a kid."

She rolled her eyes and continued, "I cleaned her up and gave her the rest that she needs." That was definitely Edward talking…Alice clapped her hands together, "And now I'm going."

"Good idea," Jacob said.

She looked at him coolly, "Then I guess it's mutually beneficial." And then she walked out of my room, leaving me and my enraged boyfriend alone.

"I'm sorry," I said to Jacob. "I didn't mean to get sick." That, at least, was true.

\*\*/*/

I went without breakfast to partially make up for missing our five AM rehearsal. We went straight to the theatre, hoping to be able to steal some time on the stage before class began. But for the first time, we weren't the first to be rehearsing – everyone else had turned up early, as well. They were all busy chattering and practising, taking up every available spot on the stage. Practise tutus floated around, partners went through their lifts, girls doused their shoes in rosin just like violinists and their violins – we could slip as easily on this stage as a bow across strings. I put that image out of my head, though. It made me feel sick.

I didn't feel nervous, exactly; I just felt so tense I was practically shaking. But I wouldn't let myself show it, not when Jacob was so calm. Besides, I couldn't let my ridiculous outbreak of nerves at Edward's last night be real. I had been drunk – that was my justification of everything that had happened. If I hadn't been drunk, I would never have gone to the _Force _house. I would never have let him put his hands on me or comfort me or _sleep _with me. I had spent the night with him…I had _asked _him to sleep with me…

It made me even tenser as we walked down the aisle, between the seats which would tonight be full of people, all watching me. Judging me.

"Why is Edward staring at you like that?" Jacob asked me, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I jerked me head up, immediately finding Edward near the front of the stage with Joseph, helping him with his second position. He was in his navy blue v-neck, which exposed his toned, strong arms – arms that had gently but so firmly held me together last night…

But as Edward answered Joseph's questions and altered his turn out, he was staring at me. It was hard to read his expression. I glared at him, telling him not to bother even trying to recreate last night's 'connection', but he didn't seem to care. It was almost as if he was looking at someone else. The old Bella. As if she still existed.

"I don't know," I snapped, looking away. "Why should I?"

Jacob glanced at me, "Did you get a chance to leave him his gift?"

I swallowed, going in front of him to walk up the stairs, hoping he wouldn't see my hesitation. "It's gone," I said quietly. "I must have dropped it on the way there."

Jacob smirked, "Maybe he's found it, then – he looks that unhappy."

"Can we just dance?" I said abruptly, dropping my bag in the wings and sitting down to tie up my pointes.

We warmed up at the barre in the wings before walking into the middle of the other dancers and clearing our own space on the stage. We were the most important people in the production, after all, and no one needed to rehearse as much as us.

Unfortunately, it was far harder to stay focused with a stage full of other people. Our lifts didn't go well – I forgot to prepare before a shoulder sit and ended up sliding down Jacob's body to the floor. Everyone, of course, saw. I gave a good long glare to anyone who sniggered. "Would you care to try?" I snapped at a few corps girls.

Inside, my tension increased almost to bursting point. I couldn't fall. I just couldn't. This lift had to work. Everything had to be as close to perfect as possible. And yet now I wasn't even thinking about perfect – I was just thinking about surviving.

"Again," I said to Jacob, going back to position. People still hadn't turned away but I tried not to care.

Jacob put his hands on my waist. "You're leaning forward too much," he said.

"I know," I said, making the adjustment in my head. "Seven, eight – "

He lifted me. And then there was Edward, watching along with everyone else. The memory of his touch suddenly made my heart beat skip. My butt reached Jacob shoulder and yet somehow fell short.

"Shit!" I cursed and Jacob barely kept enough support to not drop me. He awkwardly set me back on my feet. Everyone was still watching. And this time, they couldn't help but snigger.

"We should be able to do this," I hissed and stormed through the wings and out into the cold lights of the corridor.

"You still had the wrong posture!" Jacob said angrily, following behind me. "And you didn't prepare in the count before!"

I rounded on him as the stage door shut. "I had this before! It has to be you!"

"No," Jacob said, the muscles in his arms all tense. He jabbed a finger at my chest, "This is all because you didn't come back last night! You've screwed up our whole routine!"

"I was drunk!" I exclaimed, pushing his hand down. Our voices were echoing down the corridors.

He shoved a hand through his sweat-beaded hair and scoffed, "You shouldn't have been drunk in the first place!"

"I got drunk because I was nervous!" I shouted. "Something you failed to address!"

"Like it's my job?" he said. "Jesus, Bella, I thought you were self-sufficient! I thought you didn't need me to hold your hand through everything like Edward did!"

"I – " I let out a breath and then said, in a more repressed voice, "I don't."

"Good!" came a voice from the stage door. We both turned to see Helen standing there in a sharp black business suit with a silver shirt underneath – a game day suit. She smiled and came to stand in front of us, "It is very normal for a partnership to have some strife before opening night."

"We're not normal," Jacob said tightly.

Helen gave him a look, "Even so, you have argued and now you can move on." She put her arms around both of our shoulders – her heels allowed her just to reach Jacob's – and began walking as back to the stage door. "I need my two stars to be perfect," she said. I looked to Jacob for a smile – 'perfect' was never going to happen – but he was looking stonily ahead. "And you will be. But whatever you need to make things easier, I will get you."

She held the door open for us and we walked back into the dark wings, only lit by pale green fluorescent lights.

"More rehearsal time," Jacob said plainly. "We don't need to do class."

Helen nodded, "Alright..." We were now back on the stage. Everyone had gone back to rehearsing and didn't seem to notice…except Edward. He looked up from his group of peasant boys, concern in his eyes.

"Helen," I said, accidentally cutting into whatever she'd been saying. I tore my eyes from Edward to look at her. "I need something on top of that." I took a deep breath, "I don't want Edward in the audience."

* * *

><p><strong>So whose team are you on now?<strong>

**Please review and let me know what you think! And scold me for my slowness - definitely deserved.**

**Thanks so much for keeping on reading!**

**Amberdeen**


	30. Chapter 29

Hello all!

What a week it has been! Rehearsals and school and all the rest.

Thank you so much for all your reviews! I love hearing your opinions and criticisms and support! Thank you!

This chapter is a little shorter than usual but you guys seem to prefer short to nothing (I agree!) so I hope this is alright!

Please review!

And enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>A Whole New World - <em>Alladin...what? It's late...

_The Piano Guys Album_

* * *

><p>Helen frowned; this was definitely an unusual request. "I guess that can be arranged."<p>

"Why would you need that?" Jacob asked, giving me a calculating stare.

I folded my arms over my chest, "He looks at us so judgementally. I'd rather he wasn't there – just for the first night. You have to admit, Jacob – you feel it too."

He looked away distastefully.

"We lose focus," I told Helen. She nodded understandingly.

"I'll see it done." She gave us both a squeeze on the arm and went directly across to Edward, taking him aside.

"Let's go," I murmured, not wanting to see his reaction.

We went to the rehearsal room we had used yesterday and began going through every pas de deux step we had. It felt good to be in front of the mirror again. It took far longer to get through each pas de deux than it usually had – it took far longer to fix things than it had previously. It was like those plies on the first day I had ever tried Monsieur Repin's technique – long and arduous. That one shoulder sit was our first task and it took half an hour, most of which was my body slowly relaxing and letting my mind sink back into that familiar, beautiful focus. Everything else was easier after that. We danced, we fixed, we repeated again and again and again. I didn't fall. My confidence began to return.

"I'm sorry," I said as we packed up. "For earlier. I just wasn't in the right frame of mind."

Jacob nodded, "Just stay focused. Don't talk to anyone you don't need to."

"I know," I said. He was right – I had to keep to myself, even though I worried about Edward's reaction to my request.

The final dress rehearsal was scheduled to commence an hour later. Of course we ran an hour late – one of the lights had malfunctioned and everyone could see the tomb through the screen it was meant to be hidden by. And then there were further delays – Joseph lost his pantaloons and Carlisle wanted to go over some steps with Alice and Jasper. Then we started only to stop five minutes into the first scene because Jacob refused to do his variation until the conductor agreed to slow the tempo. It was a valid issue – the conductor seemed to be somewhat flustered and he'd been doing everything at double speed.

"Drama queen," Rosalie muttered next to me – I had the misfortune to be watching from the same wing as her entrance was from. She was all dressed up in a tight corset which actually gave her some cleavage, being the most well-endowed out of any of the girls, and a ragged brown skirt.

"He's a great dancer," I said stonily.

"No," she retorted. "Edward is. And you would be too if you went back to him."

In the interest of the production's leading prostitute being alive for her cue and for my own sanity, I turned and walked away, finding myself a wing further back.

I didn't see Alice in her crimson and black lace dress until it was too late – I was already standing next to her. But at least I had something to say.

"Thank you," I muttered awkwardly, watching the villagers prance about under the stage lights. "For this morning."

"I didn't do it for you," she replied calmly. "I did it because Edward asked me to."

"Well," I said, turning to go. "Thank you anyway."

"He believes what the rest of us have given up on," Alice continued. I paused and look at her. She kept watching the dancers. "He believes that the _Force _Bella is in there somewhere." I saw her mouth curve in a small smile, "He still loves you, even when you're killing him because of it."

"He should give up," I said. "He hasn't got a chance."

"You're not doing a good job of convincing him of that," Alice said. "Sleeping in the same bed as him, the night before you open because there's nothing else you can do to keep the nerves at bay – not exactly a good indication of your 'hatred' of him."

"Great," I snapped. "He hasn't got any idea of confidentiality, either."

"He didn't tell me," she said coolly. Finally, she turned to face me, her expression oddly reminiscent, "When I had my first performance at _Force, _I snuck into Jasper's dorm and we clung to each other, going through absolutely everything that could go wrong – from a missed step to a nuclear bomb attack – until morning." She grinned, looking down at her red pointe shoes, "And then of course we woke up to find Master Hinde and all the other boys standing around our bed, staring." Before I had the chance for a traitorous laugh, Alice had turned back to the stage.

"Either way," she said, returning to her blank tone. "I know that any time you're scared or anxious, it's the one you love and who loves you back who you will end up going to."

I stiffened. This was definitely not in line with my rule not to talk to anyone unnecessarily. "I have to go," I said. "Thank you again."

\*\*/*/

The dress rehearsal was average. The pas de deuxs all worked out – the shoulder lift, much to everyone's displeasure, went exactly as it was meant to, meaning that all of their previous joy at our failure was revoked. Jacob and I were principals. We may have made mistakes, but we were the best for the job, without a doubt.

But my solo variations were less satisfactory. Edward was nowhere to be seen, which was good, and yet I still didn't have the full focus I needed. All my previous rehearsals seemed distant, somehow. As if they hadn't included the extra stress of the real performance. But it was all meant to be the same. Nothing was meant to change between the rehearsals and the performance. Perhaps there was an audience but it wasn't like they were standing on the stage, blocking my way. They were just a bad replacement for a mirror.

After another of Carlisle's long note sessions, everyone was sent off for a two hour break. I made straight for the studios, worried that I wouldn't get through all my solos in time. Two hours until hair and make up. Three hours until onstage warm up. Three and a half hours until the doors opened. Four hours until curtain up. And four hours and twenty three minutes until I stepped out onto that stage.

The thought of that time distracted me from my rehearsal. I sighed, wiping the sweat from my face and neck, and sat down by my bag to put some more lamb's wool in my points and drink some water.

It took about thirty seconds for me to slowly sink to the floor and fall into blissful, beautiful sleep.

\*\*/*/

"Bella?" I blinked awake, feeling a horrible kink in my neck from using my ballet bag as a pillow. "Oh thank God!"

I looked up to see Daniela and Adela hurrying in. They were already in full costume and stage makeup.

It was dark outside.

"Oh God," I said, leaping to my feet. "What time is it? What have I missed?"

"It's okay," Daniela said as Adela grabbed my bag. "The orchestra hasn't tuned yet."

"The audience is in?" I exclaimed. We were hurrying down the hallway. How could I have fallen asleep? How was that even possible? "I'm not warmed up or ready or rehearsed or anything!"

"You still have plenty of time to get into makeup and costume," Adela said. We took the sharp corners of the stairwell as fast as we could.

"Don't tell Carlisle," I puffed.

"How?" Daniela asked as we burst out into the labyrinth of ground floor corridors. "He's had everyone looking for you."

"Tell him I was rehearsing and didn't even notice the time." We reached familiar territory – my dressing room was just ahead. "Don't tell anyone I fell asleep."

"I'll go and find Carlisle," said Adela.

"I'll help you change," Daniel offered.

"Thank you." If I was less flustered, it would have sounded as sincere as I meant it to be – I really was thankful to them. They reminded me of Eliza and Violet in some ways.

As soon as we got into my dressing room, I started peeling off my leotard whilst Daniela tugged my ball gown off its hanger.

"Was Carlisle angry?" I asked, shoving my feet into the first pair of white tights I could find.

"No," Daniela said, holding open the dress for me to step into. "More worried than anything."

"I bet Tanya was just itching for me not to turn up."

She laughed, "Definitely."

"_Act one beginners to the stage."_ We both jumped as the stage manager's voice came through the wall speaker. _"All act one beginners, this is your final call."_

I looked at Daniela, "You have to go."

She looked torn, "But you're not ready…"

"You're not missing your cue! I'll be fine!"

"Okay," she breathed and hurried out the door.

_Don't be nervous, _I told myself as I heard the orchestra begin the overture. _Don't even think about it…_

The dressing room was completely silent. I looked at myself in the mirror. It was just me. Alone. Jacob would be in the wings. My friends would be too. And Edward…I felt a pang in my chest; where would he be? Alone somewhere as well, I guessed.

_Makeup, _I ordered. Determined to think only of drawing a straight line of eyeliner and my variations, I grabbed my makeup bag and started to cake my tired face with foundation and blush. The eyes were important – everything had to be exaggerated by extending every line in thick black.

The orchestra finished its overture.

"_Curtain up."_

And the ballet began.

_Deep breaths. _I undid my hair and began plaiting it, trying not to let my shaking fingers get in the way.

Jacob would be on stage right now. So would Emmett and Rosalie and Daniela. They were lucky – there was no time for this awful nervousness on stage.

The plaiting was finished. I stared at myself again. Beneath the makeup, I could hardly see myself. I just looked…like a mess. And I felt like one. Weary – tired beyond belief.

I abruptly stood up and walked out, not wanting to look a moment more. _What am I going to do? How can I do this?_

I was so wrapped up in my fears that I walked straight into someone.

"Sorry," I muttered, just as the scent hit me. I stepped back and just…gaped.

He was…kind of breath taking. He wore a black tuxedo, tailored perfectly to his lean body. The black set off his pale, flawless skin. And his green eyes…looking at me, appraising me as I did him. I felt shy, almost, as he took in my costume, looking up from my pointe shoes, to the shimmering pale gold of my dress, the way my plaited and curled hair had been pinned up, leaving my neck exposed. His eyes lingered only a second on my painted lips, before he finally met my gaze.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I shouldn't be here."

"Edward," I said before I thought. He frowned as he saw my shaking hands. "I don't know what to do…"

Tentatively, he took my hands in his own, stepping in closer and looked at me with those deep emerald eyes, "You do know, Bella."

I shook my head, "I don't want to dance like that, Edward. You know I don't."

He gazed at me, expressing a sadness that I would not allow myself. Eventually, he took a breath and gently touched my cheek, "Then you have to go out there and do what you have spent every second rehearsing for since you came here." He dropped his hands, leaving me without his warmth, "Just focus. Don't let anything else get into your head."

"Why would you say this?" I whispered. "You hate the way I dance."

Edward looked down, his black lashes shielding his eyes from me, "I want you to be happy, Bella." He looked up again, his expression now resolute, though he did not quite look at me, "You need to go."

He turned to go. My heart ached, "Edward – "

He looked back at me as he stood in the exit doorway, "_Merde_, Bella."

And then he was gone, leaving me with the traditional French curse that every ballet dancer was meant to hear before stepping onto the stage.

"_Scene Two beginners, this is your final call."_

"_Just focus."_

Setting my shoulders back, I hurried through the stage door.

Darkness and loud music surrounded me. Hushed whispers of stage crew and dancers. The glow of light from the stage. The silent hum that seems to come from the audience. Perhaps they are not making any noise, but you can feel their overwhelming, judgemental presence nonetheless.

I walked forward, my heart thudding in my chest. The spinning and leaping of dancers flashed by through each wing.

"_Just focus."_

The music finished. Applause.

Stage crew changed the set, moving like shadows across the stage, each with their own prop or piece of the set to sort out. The background of my bed chamber was lowered down. A bed was wheeled on. A chair with the teddy bear on it.

I could hardly think in sentences. My teeth were gritted together, my breathing unsteady.

_Focus. Focus. Just focus._

The lights came up.

The music, light and chirpy, began.

I ran lightly onto the stage.

The movement seemed to finally put my brain into gear. Suddenly, it was just me and my pointe shoes, alone in the studio, feeling each movement in its entirety. My mind was in a comfortable whirlwind, scanning up and down my body ten thousand times a second, fixing, tweaking, correcting…

But it didn't have too much to do – all of the work, all of those long hours had paid off. I knew that what I was fixing would not even be noticed by the audience. They wouldn't understand it. And yet they would somehow appreciate it, I knew.

Leah came in. I danced around her, teddy bear in hand.

Alice and Jasper entered in their usual way – grand and loving. They introduced Joseph to me, who I guess cleaned up rather well in his white doublet and tights. Even in our short pas de deux, I managed to stay on track. His partnering was, of course, a little off – his lifts still felt unsteady. But me? I was strong throughout, absolute strength in my core muscles, my toes pointed and turned out.

The scene ended. I ran off with the teddy bear.

Oh, it felt so good! The satisfaction every step gave me…

"Good job, Bella," someone whispered, patting me on the shoulder as I stood in the wings once more, breathing fast. I smiled as more congratulations came, but quickly moved somewhere a little more private to get focussed again. This time, without the nerves; there was no need.

I didn't see Jacob until the ballroom scene. He appeared out from behind the other dancers halfway through my variation, and I hardly noticed him until it was actually time to perform our pas de deux. Then he was in front of me, his hand outstretched.

I took it and we began. It was exciting – our pas de deuxs were the most rehearsed and most cherished of the whole ballet for us. Two dancers, both using Monsieur Repin's technique, both working entirely, beautifully in sync with each other. I only hoped the audience could see it.

The final balcony scene came quickly. It was even better to be on the stage with Jacob and no one else, dancing the pas de deux we had first started on all those months ago when I was only just beginning to discover my real skill. Now, it was clean and accurate. Oh, there were minor errors here and there but that was never going to change.

Jacob smoothly set me back down from the final lift. We stepped forward together, hand in hand, and then turned toward each other.

Perfectly in time to the music, Jacob laid his hand on my waist and we kissed.

Something was wrong. _Nothing is wrong, _I told myself, checking my posture, the line of my back leg. Even the tilt of my chin. But…I had that same feeling as I had for every little mistake. It just wasn't as near to perfect as it should have been…and yet it was only a kiss. It was by no means our hardest move.

"_Just focus," _Edward had told me. It was ironic, then, that it was his face that suddenly came into my head as the kiss reached its end and my focus shattered.

There was a pause. I stared at Jacob for a second, getting out of time with the music.

His gave me a quick look.

I gulped.

And then the dance continued.

I ran up to the balcony. He climbed up the trellis to serenade me one last time.

Then the scene ended with him reaching up and me reaching down. The curtains swept across the front of the stage as the audience gave a short applause.

"I'm sorry!" I whispered as I ran back down the stairs into the wings and he came off next to them.

He nodded, but didn't seem too worried, "We did well, Bella."

I grinned at him and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips, "I can't wait for the standing ovation."

"And the movie offers," he said with a laugh.

The interval lasted twenty minutes, in which time everyone ran around congratulating each other and pulling on their costumes. Chattering corps members lined the corridor out of the stage door. Carlisle, dressed in a tux which reminded me that once, definitely not very long ago, he had been another Edward – another golden boy – was touring the backstage area, allowing the dancers to throw themselves upon him in excitement, all asking what he thought. He seemed to be very pleased. But he didn't talk to me. When I met his gaze, he looked back to whomever he was talking to straight away.

I didn't care. All that mattered was that Jacob and I had the critics' approval. I reached my dressing room and set about running through things for the second act.

\*\*/*/

We owned it. Variation after variation, pas de deux after pas de deux. The bedroom scene, the poison scene, the wedding-day scene – all performed exactly as we'd hoped. By the time we reached the final scene in the Capulet tomb, I felt tired but very satisfied and I knew Jacob felt the same. Edward and Carlisle may have been the golden boys, but every step Jacob performed proved that he was every bit as good. _Better, _I told myself as I lay stock still on the tomb. It was the only time I allowed myself on stage to think about anything other than the steps. I could hear Jacob and Joseph's feet landing on the stage floor as they toiled with each other – Joseph's sounded like elephants compared to Jacob's light, calculated jumps.

Joseph _finally _died and Jacob pulled me off the tomb, starting our final dance where I pretended to be dead. It was hard. I hated not being able to open my eyes – it was disorientating to be thrown over someone's shoulder and spun around and kissed without seeing anything.

It was a relief to finally be able to wake up and stab myself. As soon as I felt down against the cool surface of the tomb, properly dead this time, I felt a sharp thrill of excitement – this was it! Curtain call!

As soon as the curtains closed, Jacob and I leapt up, hurrying off to the side, out of the way of the back row of chorus members who ran on. The curtains opened, this time with the house lights up as well as the stage lights. The orchestra played as the corps took their bows, then the demi-soloists like Danny. I clapped loudly from the wings, so excited. Leah and Joseph came on next, both looking as glum as each other.

"He screwed up while you were dead," Jacob muttered to me. "Ended up on the wrong side of the stage and then had to kill himself."

"Oh dear," I murmured, though nothing was going to get me down. "At least we've done well."

An uproar of whistling and excited clapping went up as Jasper, always the gentleman, lead Alice on. They had to take two bows each before the audience would let them take their places in the front row.

"Here goes," I whispered to Jacob, squeezing his hand.

With a deep breath, he led me on through the very back on the company. Our fellow dancers divided down the middle to let us through. I grinned as we reached the front of the stage and I stepped forward to take my bow.

It was only as I knelt down, drawing my arms in a wide circle to then cross my chest, that I realised there were no shouts of 'bravo'. There were no whistles. And no one was standing. I stood up a little too fast, only just regaining my balance. My smile now felt painfully fake as I held out my hand for Jacob to step forward and take his bow. He didn't look happy either. The clapping was beginning to die down.

We stepped back into the front row and held hands, then walked forward as a group, taking one big bow together.

A bit of the volume returned to the applause, but by the time everyone should have been heading off into the wings and leaving us principals to have our curtain calls, people were standing up to leave. No one was clapping anymore.

* * *

><p>Thoughts? Poor Bella...<p>

I'm leaving for the UK in a week's time, with a big performance the night before I leave so this week is going to be crazy busy!

I do, however, have a chapter partially written so I really, really want to give you one more chapter!

Please review and thanks for reading! You, unlike Bella's audience, are the most forgiving and supportive audience ever!


	31. Chapter 30

Hello from Scotland!

I am very sorry for the late update but I am surprised to be updating at all, considering the amount of travel I've had!

**Thank you so much for all your reviews! A whole load of them were not sent to me (thanks, fanfiction...) and I was kind of disheartened but things worked out fine and I really appreciate all your comments and opinions and thoughts!**

**Thank you!**

****Please review!

And I do hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>Ke$ha - Dancing With Tears in My Eyes<em>

_Avril Lavigne_

_P!nk_

* * *

><p>"I don't get it," I heard Danny complain as we all headed off.<p>

"My arabesque needed to be higher," I muttered, yanking the knot in my pointe shoe.

"That Joseph guy is going to get it," Jacob said stonily. "And so is that corps girl who kept getting in the way."

"I need to rehearse."

We made our way through the other dancers, all seeming to be pretty happy with the fact that we had failed where every other NFSI company had succeeded. I just wanted to scream.

Jasper, never one for holding grudges, came up to us in the brightly-lit corridor, smiling, "Well done, both of you."

"Fix your jete in the ballroom scene," Jacob snapped and pushed past him to his dressing room.

I followed quickly, not able to give Jasper a smile or congratulations. My disappointment and mortification didn't leave room for much else. Alice and Jasper had gotten a bigger applause than us. We were the _principals! _This was not meant to happen.

In my dressing room, I scrubbed off my makeup and reached behind to wrench the laces of my death-dress free. I could hardly look at myself. When my hairpins wouldn't come out, no matter how hard I tugged, I swore and sunk down onto a chair. Everything felt so damned impossible. My nails dug into my thighs, the only thing I could bear to feel. "Shit," I cursed again through gritted teeth.

"Bella," Jacob's voice came through the door. "Hurry up."

I swallowed, "Coming."

It took so much effort just to stand up and put on my cardigan.

When I finally came out, Jacob was standing there, his bike helmet in hand. I reached up to brush away a flake of mascara from his cheek but he flinched away. "Come on," he said blankly.

We headed back out through the theatre to avoid the rest of the cast – their gossipy chatter could only be directed at us.

The ghost light was on – a tall white light on the stage which is always kept on throughout the night when all the other lights are turned off. It was meant to stop the first people who entered the theatre from falling into the orchestra pit, though it was also supposed to keep theatre ghosts company at night.

But now it just shed a dull grey light over everything, showing the true spirit of this stupid theatre.

The plush red chairs, all two thousand of them, didn't hold any promise anymore. It had been a full house. They had all seen us. And yet they hadn't cared. They hadn't liked us.

Jacob walked fast ahead of me, clearly just wanting to get out.

But what awaited us on the other side of the foyer door was far worse. We opened the doors and stepped into the opulent entrance hall of the theatre – all marble and fancy sculptures and glass staircases. And it was full of people. Audience members, all in tuxedos and sparkly dresses, clinking champagne flutes. Somewhere, a string quartet was playing. It was clear that these were the ladies and gentlemen of the dress circle – the rich people. The sponsors.

"Shit," Jacob muttered. It seemed to be fast becoming our favourite word. Well, since 'focus' no longer seemed to work, maybe something harsher would be better.

"There's an exit," I said, pointing to a polished glass door which seemed the closest.

We set off, weaving amongst Seattle's elite. Some turned as we passed. Most just looked at us discerningly. But some recognised us. I could see it on their distasteful expressions as they gave a polite smile and turned quickly away.

"Finally," I said as we reached the door. I pulled it open. But Jacob didn't go through. I frowned, turning around to follow his furious gaze.

Of course. There was Edward, surrounded by elegantly dressed men and women, all listening intently as he answered some old man's question. His eyes twinkled in the light from the chandelier. He looked perfectly at ease, holding a glass of champagne, dressed in that perfectly tailored tux, smiling that irritating smile of his, asking questions and offering compliments on cue.

Jacob, probably seeing red, stepped a little bit closer.

"Jake – " I began, but he held up a hand. I rolled my eyes, very much aware that we were standing behind a potted tree in our rehearsal clothes in a room predominantly made out of glass – it wasn't exactly stealthy.

"George and I were so disappointed not to see you tonight," one of the women said, hooking her fur shawl over her elbow so she could pat Edward's arm.

"Yes," Another man said. "After last year's monumental opening night – how many calls was it?"

I saw a slight blush come to Edward's face, "Well, I was fortunate enough to have very forgiving audience members like yourselves."

"No less than eight, I believe," the woman said. She patted him again. Almost like he was her poodle, really. But a very beloved poodle. "Don't be so modest, Edward!"

"Eight more than tonight's performance," snorted a balding man who was almost at the bottom of his glass.

Edward frowned, "I'm sure that's not true, Mister Walton."

He looked sincere. _He really didn't watch._

"You didn't see?" A dyed-blonde woman said.

He gave an awkward smile, "I was busy with some admin. Carlisle only just dragged me in here."

The first woman delicately touched her fur, "Put it this way, dearest Edward; it wasn't quite the calibre of that fantastic Don Quixote variation you performed at the ABT gala concert."

"Ugh," Jacob spat. "I've had enough." He turned around and stormed out the door, all his muscles tensed. Edward and his posse kept on talking, now on the subject of his father's business. Maybe he was trying to turn the attention away from himself – it must have been embarrassing. But then I really didn't care – it was Jacob whom they should have been fawning over, not someone who hadn't even done a thing.

I followed Jacob onto the pavement. He walked even faster now, his breath swirling white in the cold night air. We reached his bike, parked by the bus that would take the rest of the cast home when they finally sorted themselves out.

Jacob got straight on, pushing his key into the ignition and pulling on his helmet.

"What am I wearing?" I asked confusedly.

He revved the engine, not looking at me, "I need some time alone. Go back with the rest of them."

I recoiled. My mind, which felt like it had been bashed around with a baseball bat since the second I woke up in Edward's bed, had had its last blow. Tears pricked at my eyes, "Are you breaking up with me?"

"Jesus!" Jacob exclaimed. "You are so fucking melodramatic! I meant I need to be alone right now. Now go join everyone else who screwed up my production."

He flicked his visor down, revved the engine once more, and then swiftly turned off and sped down the street, disrupting the late night traffic.

I slowly stepped back from the curb, my back hitting the cold glass of a shop window.

It was almost twenty minutes before the bus driver showed up, reeking of cigarettes. He grudgingly let me onto the bus. I huddled in the very back corner, pulling my knees up to my chest. I didn't cry. I didn't do that anymore. But I wanted to. So much.

Fifteen minutes later, everyone else finally arrived, blathering inanely about the night's excitements. But when they saw me sitting in the back, they turned around and wordlessly found other seats. Alice and Jasper came in arm in arm, accepting more congratulations as they walked through and took their seats behind Rosalie and Emmett. Tanya had to be helped onto the bus by an unwilling Joseph. She wasn't drunk, but she had stupidly refused to take off her five inch gold Louis Vuitons which kept getting caught in the tassels of her gold dress. I was glad I wasn't the only miserable one. She looked utterly peeved – a look that was only accentuated by her choice of a dress, which was made for a woman with some kind of a bust; something that no ballet dancer was likely to achieve. I guessed tonight's mingling for her hadn't been so lucrative.

"Alright! Sit down!" came a call from the front. Edward had climbed aboard, looking every bit the rising star of the ballet world in his tux. He still looked breathtaking. Irritatingly. "Carlisle's busy with donors and the board so I'm taking the roll and there is not going to be _any _singing."

Emmett, of course, immediately started up a rowdy chorus of 'The Piano Man' – the ridiculous theme song of this company – and Edward shook his head amusedly at him before telling the bus driver to leave.

I tried to block everyone out as we crawled through the main street. I couldn't understand them – how they could be happy with how they had done.

I couldn't understand myself, either – how could _I _have been so sure I had done everything so well. My nails dug into my kneecaps. How could I have thought I had been as close to perfect as possible? Clearly there were ten thousand things to fix. Ten million movements to look over in minute detail…

I didn't hear him coming to stand by me. I just felt the weight of his dinner jacket on my shoulders, warm from his body.

"You ruined everything today," I whispered, not looking, though I knew he was sitting beside me. My whole left side prickled with the knowledge. "If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have missed my morning rehearsal. I wouldn't have been distracted. I wouldn't have fallen asleep. I wouldn't have lost focus in the pas de deux." I bit my lip, "Jacob wouldn't be angry at me. I would have got my standing ovation."

I stared at the graffiti on the plastic panel below the window. Edward didn't say anything. I saw the rise and fall of his chest out of the corner of my eye. I knew he was looking at me. I could feel his silent gaze.

Eventually, I swallowed and said blankly, "But it doesn't matter. I'm never going to let this happen again. I'm not going to let you or anyone else get to me." I bit my lip harder as the tears once again pricked the backs of my eyelids, "I'm not weak."

"You're not," he murmured.

Wordlessly, his arm slipped around my shoulders.

We stayed the rest of the bus journey like that. I did not move to lean against him. I just stared at the same spot and let the pain and embarrassment wash over me, in the knowledge that Edward would keep me in one piece…somehow.

\*\*/*/

I rehearsed until one. When the bus had stopped, I had stood up and left Edward where he sat. We hadn't said a word to each other. The tears had slipped down my cheeks soundlessly. I could feel the tension in him. I knew he wanted to speak. But we also both knew that his words would not make a difference.

I had gone straight back to school once I'd gotten off. My body felt so weak as I snuck in through the secreted backdoor and climbed the stairs. But I would not give in. I was going to dance until everything I had done wrong was fixed.

As it turned out, my body wasn't going to let me get that far. Around half past midnight, I could hardly lift my leg into arabesque. All my limbs were impossibly heavy. My toes refused to go en pointe. I tried for another half hour. I tried with sweat dripping from my forehead. But there was nothing I could do. I simply could not dance anymore.

I slunk back to the boarding houses, ignoring the second floor light which still gave its warm glow from the _Force _building. It had been silly to blame Edward for everything. It was my own fault for getting drunk and letting him distract me and make me miss rehearsal. I should have been stronger.

Sleep didn't come easily, and when it did, nightmares swiftly took over – nightmares and memories. Edward with Tanya in his bedroom slowly morphed into Jacob leaving me alone on the street. And then they were both gone and it was just me on the stage, ghost light still on, trying to dance. Trying and failing.

\*\*/*/

"_Act One beginners to the stage. Act One beginners, this is your final call."_

Here we were, back at the beginning again. Our second and final show in Seattle.

I hadn't spoken to anyone all day. I had woken up at seven after sleeping through my alarm – Bridget had had to wake me and make sure that I didn't go back to sleep. I could hardly keep my eyes open. After that, I had found the most secluded studio at _Aro's _and had not left until it was time to get into hair and makeup. I hadn't seen Jacob at all.

There was a knock on my dressing room door. I put down my mascara, "Come in."

Helen entered, carrying a glass of some sort of orange water. "How are you tonight, Bella?"

"Fine, thank you," I said, eyeing the glass suspiciously.

She smiled, "It's just vitamins – to get your energy back up. Because that's all it is, isn't it?"

"All what is?" I asked, returning to my eyelashes.

Helen put the glass down on my dressing table with an audible 'thunk', startling me and getting mascara on my eyelid. I stared at her as she leaned down to look at me at eye level. "Your appalling performance last night, Bella. The performance which was quite frankly an embarrassment to this whole establishment."

I swallowed but looked back at her steadily, "Tonight will be better. I was just tired."

Her face changed in a blink and she was once again smiling, "Good. Carlisle has all these ludicrous ideas about your passion for technique but I told him he was delusional."

I gave a half-hearted smile back. She handed me the glass and I drank – the first sustenance I'd had all day, I realized.

She took the empty glass and gave me a pat on the shoulder, "Good luck, Bella. Get those arabesques up."

I nodded and she left, seemingly satisfied.

\*\*/*/

My first variation was better, I was sure of it. I finished with one leg back, arms out to the sides, my chest heaving. The audience clapped, not that that meant anything – there was always clapping after a variation or pas de deux. The scene went on, Paris leading me off. I stood in the wings, jumping and stretching to keep my muscles warm as Jasper majestically gestured for his guests to leave the ballroom. The corps members found their partners and elegantly walked out through the back of the set.

As soon as the last couple exited, I ran on, looking from side to side, supposedly trying to find Romeo. Then hands covered my eyes and I turned to see Jacob, without his mask on. I swallowed – seeing his eyes reminded me of how he had left me last night. As he took my hand, I felt the tension there. He wasn't looking at me as we began our first pas de deux, focusing on his steps. _I have to do the same, _I thought desperately.

The steps were sound. But the tension was still tangible; he hadn't forgiven me. That much was clear.

I didn't know how I could feel it. I didn't want to feel it. But I could. And even though every movement we performed together was well executed, I felt unsteady.

He didn't seem to notice. The pas de deux ended with no fault, with Joseph and Gerry running in to split us up. Gerry, of course, had a glint of humour in his eye as he 'angrily' gestured for Jacob to leave. Emmett, on the other hand, seemed to be completely in character as he grabbed Jacob and helped him put his mask back on, clapping him on the back and hurrying him to be gone.

No one had noticed, then, that my mind was not focused – that it was a mess.

The balcony scene came all too quickly. I was trying my best to focus but nothing seemed to work. When I was with Jacob, every move felt wrong. We were reaching the hardest part – the two catches.

I went in position, ready to run into his arms and then up into the air. He was looking back at me, expression steady, gauging when to move against my own movements.

I felt my stomach sink. Fear froze me. Suddenly, I didn't think I was going to make it. I didn't know if he was going to catch me. I stared at him, images running through my head. Running and then slipping from his hands like I had with Michael. My head smacking against the floor. My leg caught at an awkward angle. My bone snapping.

None of it was probable, all of it felt like it was going to happen.

My cue played past me and I was out of time. Jacob's eyes urged me to go. I could practically feel his anger brewing.

_Go! _I screamed at myself. I didn't let myself think as my legs finally began to move. Jacob caught me and swung me up above his head, supporting my body with the palms of his hands, spread across my stomach.

It was fine. But my heart was still thudding hard with nerves and embarrassment.

"What the hell was that?" Jacob demanded, following me as I went through from the wings into backstage, hurrying to pull my hairpins out for the next scene. I wanted to cry.

"I'm sorry!" I gasped, breathless from the rest of the dance. I raked a hand through my hair, my mind going in ten thousand different directions.

"Bella," Jacob demanded as I pushed through the stage door and out into the bright corridor. "What were you – "

I spun around, urgency suddenly attacking me, "We have to rehearse," I said, grabbing his hand. "Right now. The lift, the one in the bedroom scene."

"No," he said irritably, pulling his hand away. "I want to go change."

I shook my head and went a little way down the corridor to have enough space. "Unless you want me to do what I just did again, we need to do this."

With an irritated sigh, he stepped back and opened up his arms. It wasn't even a hard lift. I ran straight away, turning into his arms and tensing correctly as he placed me on his shoulder.

"Again," I said.

We did it five more times, until I knew I could do it again – that all this ridiculous fear was just in my head.

"Thank you," I said as we finally finished. Jacob just rolled his eyes and walked off.

\*\*/*/

The second act went far better and by the time we were running off stage for the curtain call, Jacob was looking more hopeful. The ice between us had melted, at least a bit. He took my hand in his and started to lead me on as Jasper and Alice finished their bows – another loud applause for their tiny roles.

We reached the front and I curtsied. The applause didn't die as quickly this time…but I could tell it was just polite. People were standing up to leave as Jacob and I took our final bows. Again.

\*\*/*/

Helen was furious. I just wanted to get to the studios and rehearse, but she trapped Jacob and me in the corridor and demanded to know what was going on. I told her I would work harder. She didn't seem convinced. "By the time we get on stage in San Francisco tomorrow night, you had better be good enough to get the same response Edward and Tanya were getting last year."

Jacob hadn't taken the warning well, and stalked off to his dressing room without another word. I didn't bother asking for a lift this time; I just went outside to wait for the bus.

The journey home seemed to take forever, with everyone talking again and no one brave enough to sit next to me – thank God.

I hurried back to the studios as soon as I could; I hadn't even bothered to take off my pointe shoes – I'd just exchanged my white death-dress for a red leotard and tied up my hair in a hasty bun.

But when I got to the big studio on the third floor – the studio I needed to properly rehearse now – the light was on, and Tchaikovsky was pouring out at full volume.

* * *

><p>Sorry! Had to cut short so I had some incentive to complete the next chapter (it's a thousand words in - yay!)<p>

I'm currently at a boarding school and so I actually have loads of time! Fingers crossed for another update...maybe...

**Please let me know what you think! So sorry for the lateness! Hope you enjoyed :)**


	32. Chapter 31

Hello!

I have returned to New Zealand and my own bed! Yay!

Sorry for the slow update but I've been awfully jetlagged - sleeping for sixteen hours when you get home is not a good idea. And now I have flu or something and a whole load of work due in! Fun times for all!

**Anyways! Thank you so much for all of your reviews - they were lovely to read and, as always, insightful and helpful and inspiring!**

Please do review and enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>Moulin Rouge Soundtrack<em>

_Noye's Fludde - Benjamin Britten_

_The Piano Guys - being awesome generally..._

* * *

><p>I went in and almost got taken out by Edward, completing his batterie of fast leaps around the room.<p>

"Watch out!" I exclaimed as he barely made it past me, then came to an abrupt halt.

"Bella," he said, frowning. He was breathing hard, his hands resting on his hips. Sweat beaded on his brow. There was a dark 'v' down his t-shirt.

"Someone's been working hard," I muttered, taking in his appearance. He smiled, his green eyes bright.

"The British are going to beat me to a pulp," Edward said, flicking off the music. He looked back at me, "Figured I should try to get as much of the choreography done as possible before they do that."

I felt an uncomfortable shift in my mind, "So you've signed the contract?"

He looked at me for a moment, then shook his head, "Not yet." He went over to his bag and picked up a steaming takeaway cup.

"Is that coffee?" I asked immediately, reaching forward.

He took an evasive step back, moving my life source out of my reach. "Not for you, Miss Swan."

"Edward," I said, trying to get it. "Be reasonable!"

"Ha!" he exclaimed, holding it above his head.

I stopped and folded my arms, "Childish."

He smirked and reached into his bag, pulling out a paper bag and handing it to me, "Eat."

I peeked inside – a very appetising-looking breakfast croissant. My stomach rumbled – when was the last time I'd eaten? But I shook my head and held it out to him, "I need to rehearse."

Edward raised his eyebrow, not taking the bag back. "You're too tired to rehearse, Bella."

"That's not exactly any of your business," I said, any lapse into friendliness totally forgotten.

He folded his arms across his chest, "I saw you last night – you hardly had enough energy to walk. And Alice tells me you and Jacob were rehearsing in the interval, too."

I looked down at my bitten nails, "That was necessary."

Edward's dark eyebrows knitted together again as he leaned back against the barre, looking at me, "Was it because of the Balcony Scene?"

"Jesus," I muttered. "Everyone must have noticed."

Edward shook his head, "It was tiny, Bella. Only you, me and Jacob will have noticed."

"If you noticed, everyone noticed."

He looked at me, "I just know how you go into lifts, Bella. And that it's not like that." When I said nothing, he pushed off the barre and started flexing his feet, carefully turning his gaze away, "You didn't think he would catch you."

I swallowed and turned away, "Your jetes weren't high enough, from what I saw before you came barrelling into me. You need to be lighter in your execution."

"Thank you," he said, accepting my change of subject with that irritating diplomacy he'd always had. He put down his coffee and went out into the centre of the studio, carefully preparing his leap, checking his feet in the mirror.

"You need more turn out," I couldn't help but tell him – I was so used to staring at myself and correcting. He made the fix easily, running his eyes up and down his body. "Now go," I told him. He started his circle of leaps, tight and fast. "Put your weight further forward." I watched him closely, "Better…"

He smiled at me as he finished, coming to a standstill in front of me. "You make a good teacher."

I gave him a blunt look, "You don't like the way I do it, though."

He sighed, "I use Monsieur Repin's technique, Bella. To an extent. But just when I'm trying to get the steps right, not forever and always. Not that it helps with this section because I move too fast to watch myself."

"Isn't Carlisle helping?" I asked.

"No," said Edward. "I feel bad for pulling him away from his production to tutor me. The show is more important."

"Madame Esme?" God, it had been such a long time since I had thought of her and her wake up calls and dorm inspections.

He smiled, "Esme's acting Headmistress whilst Carlisle's away. Though she still texts me to tell me to brush my teeth."

"So motherly," I murmured, reminiscing back to my First Year days at _Force. _It really had been fun…

I blinked, reminding myself that I was beyond _Force _now. "I should go…" I said, but didn't moved toward the door. "It's the Royal Ballet," I said awkwardly. "You should definitely fix the coda…how is the rest?"

A grin crept onto Edward's lips, "Want to see?"

And that was how, at half an hour to midnight, I ended up sitting on the floor of the main studio, correcting Edward's difficult choreography whilst savouring the croissant and sneaking in sips of coffee when he was in one of his deep, furrowed brow moments.

"The entrechat – your shoulders collapse a little."

He nodded, wiping the sweat off his neck and trying again. He finished the movement and glanced down at his watch, looking back up at me with an apologetic expression, "I believe it is time for us to finish or you won't be awake to see the Golden Gate Bridge."

I frowned unhappily. I'd almost been in a trance – not my normal, focused one but kind of a crossover. It was interesting watching Edward work. The way a crease appeared between his eyebrows when he was concentrating. The strong, confident way he moved his body. Elegant and bold and impossible to look away from. With every step, he seemed to fill the whole of my vision. He was entrancing.

"Shouldn't you put everything together?" I said, stretching out my legs and reaching over to touch my toes. I looked up at him, "I'm not tired yet."

"And if _I'm _tired?" he said with a smirk.

I scoffed, "Well I am the teacher here, Mister Masen! Shouldn't you do what I tell you?"

He sighed and swept down into a low bow, "Professor Swan."

"Better," I said contentedly and flicked on the music. Edward went to the far left corner, where the prince enters for his variation.

"You won't like this," he warned as the introductory music played. "I'm not going to be staring at myself the whole time."

I rolled my eyes, "Oh get on with it."

He stepped straight up into a long arabesque, his arms in an oval above his head. Then, as the music came in boisterous strides, he stepped and turned on the ball of his foot, his arms coming out freely from his sides. A smile came to his face and he almost let his body fall for a little before putting his other foot down and going into the next step. I was about to call out but stopped myself, not quite able to remember the fault – he looked perfect. Carefree.

He leapt across the floor, soundlessly landing. He stepped onto the ball of his foot again, taking a strong breath in as he looked up and lifted his back leg, hand on his hip, smiling at some unseen thing. His right arm rose up high, his fingers reaching the top of the movement, and then he and the music seemed to suspend there for a moment before his whole body moved with the crescendo, down into the next turn.

It was beautiful and yet my memory of Edward seemed to not quite agree with what I saw. Compared to what I was used to – the way Jacob danced – it was practically glittering with dramatics. But it wasn't Edward. Edward who was so good at exciting the same emotion in the audience that his character was feeling. I watched him and suddenly remembered the very first ballet I had ever seen. It had been Swan Lake. Prince Siegfried and Odette – the partnership I had fell in love with, that I had been unable to forget as the show went on, that had tugged at my heart strings.

I remembered this very variation, where Siegfried had been enchanted by the evil wizard to think that Odile, the black swan, was in fact his beloved Odette and he was so in love with her that he was pouring his heart out with happiness. All the while, Odette saw what was going on from a distance, helpless to do anything to stop it.

"Bella?" Edward was saying. I realized he'd come to the end of the variation. "Was my turnout really so bad that you won't reply?"

I blinked, staring up at him. "Edward…" I said, my mind slowly turning. "There's something wrong with it."

He raised his eyebrow amusedly, "I told you you wouldn't like it."

"No," I murmured, still gazing, my eyes narrowing in thought. "You're smiling and moving so in sync with the music…" I bit my lip, still thinking. "And yet there's something missing."

Vulnerability swept through Edward's bold emerald eyes.

I stood up, curious, "Siegfried is meant to be so convinced it's Odette he's dancing for – his heart is truly in every step he makes because he's just so happy that they will be together. He's not just smiling; he's feeling the greatest joy in the World." I took a step toward him, further thoughts coming to me, "But this isn't just with this piece, is it? It happened in your audition, too." Edward looked down, avoiding my gaze. "With Romeo – you showed him trying to get his love across so perfectly but you couldn't show him as the teenager just expressing that love and celebrating it. And now you're putting on a smile and moving with all the musicality in the world but I don't…" I frowned, trying to think of what I meant. "I don't believe you. It's like in every movement, behind everything else, there's…" Somewhere inside, the penny dropped. I looked at Edward and said quietly, "Pain."

A silent moment passed before he finally met my gaze, "Your dancing was not the only one to change because of last December, Bella."

We stared at each other, not saying a word. An age old sadness seemed to ache in me – the weight on my chest which I had been so good at ignoring. Pain. As much as there had been that night on the bus, as I had sped away from _Force's _hallowed halls and the people who walked them.

"Time doesn't make it better," I whispered.

Edward shook his head, his voice muted, "It has simply drained everything out of us."

"I wish I wasn't so tired," I murmured absentmindedly. "Tired of everything. Tired of dancing."

I felt his eyes on me, but couldn't look up.

Eventually, he moved away. I heard him picking up our bags, slinging one over each shoulder. "Come on," he said, putting his large, achingly familiar hand on my back.

We walked back in silence down the dark street. I tried to examine my emotions and all there was to find, hidden in a corner of my heart, was sadness for Edward. Selfless, aching, painful sadness. _Selfless, _I thought ironically; not a word in my vocabulary these days.

I snuck into my room, trying to change in the dark so as not to wake Bridget or Leah. As I tugged hairpins out of my bun, I went to the window and nudged open the curtains to look up at the sky. It was clear, but the glow of the city lights made it seem almost grey. There had been more stars at _Force. _

There had been a lot of things at _Force._

I blinked and averted my eyes, instead looking across at the Class B house. All the lights in the bedrooms were off, save one. I stared at the silhouette behind the curtains as he took his shirt off, throwing it carelessly down. He ran a hand through his hair, letting me take in his perfectly shaped physique. My lips parted slightly. His hand went to his pants. I was about to turn away when he seemed to stop, something catching his attention. He went closer to the window. My heart seized. But then he picked something up – a piece of paper. His contract. A pen was in his hand. _Oh no, no, Edward…_

"Why is your ass in my face, Swan?" I leapt back from the window at Leah's grumbled complaint.

"Jesus," I gasped.

"Shut up!" she groaned and pulled a pillow over her head.

Tentatively, I stepped back to the window and pulled back the curtain. But he was no longer there. A few seconds later, the light flicked off.

\*\*/*/

"Alright!" Carlisle called, clapping his hands above the chattering company. "Let's all just sit down for a moment!"

It was six in the morning and we had all been herded out to the front lawn of Aro's, dragging our suitcases behind us. The sun had only just begun to rise but everyone was overtly excited and far too awake. I couldn't care less about going on tour. I was just annoyed – in my exhaustion and ridiculous obsession with Edward last night, I had forgotten to set an alarm. Jacob hadn't woken me up, even though I could see him now, standing on the other side of the steps with his sports bag slung over one shoulder, clearly having just finished his morning rehearsal. I had needed that rehearsal! And we had stuff to work on together!

Still, when Bridget had finally thought to wake me up – she had let me sleep an extra hour because I was sleeping so 'soundly' – I had stretched out and packed, filling my case with leotards, lambs' wool, pointes and tights. I really didn't have much need for normal clothes; I had no interest in socialising.

"Come on!" Vicky shouted, being more forceful than Carlisle. "Get your butts on the ground!" Oh, I was definitely not missing her daily 'classes'.

"Thank you, Miss Sutherland," Carlisle said, exchanging smiles with my teacher. He rubbed his hands together and turned back to the cast, "So, it is finally time to take our production on the road." Ugh, the jittery excitement of everyone at those words was nauseating. Carlisle registered it with a knowing smile, "But there are a few rules along the way. Firstly, no drinking. No going out without signing off with your respective teachers. No going into anyone else's hotel rooms."

"Got that, Izzy?" Danny whispered to me with a giggle. "I am going to be a human barrier between you and Jacob and make sure you don't get up to any mischief!"

"That is if you're rooming with her," Bridget reminded her, then looked at me with concern at my lack of response. I said nothing, just looked tiredly on. Somehow I doubted Jacob would let me in the door.

"And finally," Carlisle was saying. "There will be class every morning, either in the performance venue or the hotel. These are not optional – you must be there on time and ready to begin. Failure to comply with any of these rules will have immediate consequences, most likely your expulsion from the program and the tour." Carlisle looked at us all with that look which said he meant business, "Do not think that we can't do without you. You are representing your schools, your art and yourselves. Congratulations on the past two shows – you have all done very well. Enjoy yourselves and let's make this a memorable tour."

"It'll be memorable, alright," I heard Leah whisper behind me as everyone stood up and headed for the bus. She was talking to Lauren, whose eyes flicked to me momentarily. I frowned – what did they mean? But Lauren's eyes quickly turned to a challenge, so I just ignored her and caught back up with the others.

It was a twelve hour bus journey to San Francisco from Seattle. With a bus packed full of over excited teenagers, it was always going to be a nightmare. The Royals dominated the back row of seats and Danny made a huge fuss over me being able to sit next to Jacob, by the window. He hardly looked at me as Danny plonked me down next to him.

"Good morning," I muttered.

"Good morning," Jacob replied, looking out the window. The bus was beginning to pull out.

"Have a good rehearsal without me?" I asked.

He glanced at me, raising his eyebrow, "You should have gotten up on time." He tugged a pair of headphones out of his pocket and pushed a bud in, "Not my responsibility."

I turned back to face the front, folding my arms. Last night's performance had done even more damage to our tenuous relationship. "We did well," I murmured, staring resolutely forward. "Seattle just didn't like us. That doesn't mean we were crap."

Jacob rolled his eyes and took out one of the buds, "_We're _not crap," he said pointedly, his brown eyes impregnable.

"We're partners," I muttered, trying to ignore how deep his statement had hurt me. "My fault is yours."

"You were the one who hesitated!" he snapped.

"Because I didn't think you'd catch me!"

"Right," he scoffed. "Bella, have I ever not caught you? Why the hell would you suddenly lose it like that?"

"Well it's not like you did much to reassure me that everything was fine," I hissed, conscious not to alert the others, who were all chattering next to us. "You've made me feel like shit since that first performance!"

"Because we were the first NFSI leads ever to not get a standing ovation," he said. "And it wasn't my fault."

"Jacob," I said sharply. "I dance exactly the same as you, for God's sake! My fault is your fault!"

"It doesn't work like that."

I shook my head incredulously, "We're in a partnership, Jacob. We take equal responsibility!"

"That's such bullshit, Bella – this is your fault alone."

"God you are so selfish," I snapped. I could hardly believe him. "Last night, I found out that Edward has been hurting just as much as I have over the past months and you know what, Jacob? He has not blamed me once for it! In fact, he is so guilty that he can't even dance the way he used to! But he wasn't even going to burden me with that because he actually cares about me, unlike you!"

I finished with a huff. Jacob just stared at me. The other Royals and anyone close had heard me. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, but I didn't break eye contact.

"You've been seeing Edward," Jacob said abruptly, his voice quaking.

"I saw him last night," I replied. "While I was trying to rehearse without my damned partner."

"You danced with him?"

"Of course not," I snapped. I raked a hand through my hair, "Seriously, Jacob. Sometimes I think you care more about pissing off Edward than me or your friends or your ballet!"

Jacob stared at me stonily for a good long minute before his expression softened a fraction, "That's not true."

"Then you'd better prove it sometime, Jacob," I said.

He looked behind me to our audience of Royals, then huffed and turned to look out the window again, shoving his headphones back into his ears.

The bus journey dragged on and on. I worried that Edward had heard what I'd said. Well, he almost certainly had, if I was being honest with myself – it was a bus full of gossiping dancers and he was only halfway down; he might have heard me himself.

Around one, after hours of uninterestedly flicking through a ballet magazine, the bus finally pulled up in the car park of a grocery store. "Half an hour for lunch and a walk around," Carlisle announced from the front of the bus. He looked rather amusing, with a piece of his blonde hair falling across his eye and a kind of groggy expression – he must have been sleeping.

I followed the crush of people off the bus. It looked a small town – all the cafes would clog up pretty soon. I tugged my wallet out of my pocket and headed in the most promising-looking direction.

"Bella!" I braced myself as Jacob ran to catch up with me.

"What?" I crossed the road and took a left onto what looked like the main street.

Jacob looked behind him before grabbing my shoulders and turning me around to look at him, his eyes full of worry. "Edward was screwing Tanya five minutes after he left you. He hurt you far more than you hurt him."

I shook his hands off and kept walking.

"Bella," he grabbed my hand this time, stopping me once more.

"I'm not going to get coffee at this rate," I muttered.

But he didn't let go, "Do you remember how miserable you were when you first came to Aro's? How desperate and lost you were?" It was true; I had even considered leaving ballet altogether. Jacob squeezed my hand, "That was Edward's fault, Bella. And I was the one who saved you."

"And now," I said unforgivingly, "These past few days it's been you who's hurting me." I sighed, feeling so tired of it all. "And it's Edward who has been the lesser evil."

"I'm sorry for that," he said earnestly. "I am. I guess I just got so stressed and frustrated…but we are a partnership, Bella." He gave me a smile, "We're a partnership and I want it to work."

I raised my eyebrow, "Are you willing to actually rehearse with me again?"

"Absolutely."

"And admit that my hesitation was perfectly well founded?"

He nodded, his dark eyes fixed on mine.

I bit my lip, "And you will buy me coffees whenever I want for the next millennium?"

Jacob grinned, "Starting now?"

I nodded my head, "Definitely."

We began heading for the nearest coffee shop, though Jacob somewhat waylaid us by pushing me into an alley and kissing me until my lips burned…

\*\*/*/

"Where have you two been?" Seth asked as we clambered back onto the bus, ten minutes late.

"Having some alone time," Jacob said with a sly grin as we passed where Edward and his friends were sitting. Edward's expression darkened, then turned concerned as he looked

I spent the rest of the journey with my head on Jacob's lap, sleeping as he read news articles on his iPhone – about ballet, no doubt. I knew I should not have forgiven him so quickly. I knew that it would do me no good in the long run. But I also knew that I had to perform with Jacob tonight. I did have to trust that he would catch me and I could not go through another performance with last night's tension – with that uneasiness running through me every step. So perhaps such an easy forgiveness wasn't right, but it served a purpose which was just as important.

\*\*/*/

We arrived in San Francisco around six, with only an hour and a half to stretch, get into costume and makeup and then get a feel for the stage. Fortunately, the set had been driven down overnight and was already set up. Supposedly, it would just be like the past two nights, though over three thousand people would be in the audience this time. Somehow, all our shows had sold out. I was guessing they had been booked before Jacob and I had been cast.

The stage was much the same. So was the audience.

No standing ovation. No flowers thrown. At least they were polite enough to wait for the curtains to go down before leaving.

I saw Helen's expression from side stage. I was almost tempted to just go off the other way, but I knew there was no way of avoiding her. She had very few words for us, "Tomorrow morning, seven o'clock in the lobby."

* * *

><p>And so it begins. I am very, very excited for the next few chapters!<p>

**Please review and let me know your thoughts and opinions! Thanks for all your support!**


	33. Chapter 32

Hello!

So happy to be posting this chapter! Ah, it is a pleasure to be writing at the moment, though I must study tomorrow!

**Thank you so much for all your reviews! I loved reading them and finding out your opinions!**

Please review this chapter!

And I hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>Skylar Grey - Words - <strong>Thank you so much to ReadingTillEternity for recommending this to me! If anyone else has any suggestions, please say because I love finding and sharing new music!<strong>_

_OneRepublic_

_Taylor Swift - Girl at Home_

* * *

><p>We were staying at <em>The Opal <em>in San Francisco. It wasn't too far from the Opera House, but far enough away to be affordable. The tour bus dropped us at the front door in the dark. Everyone seemed exhausted – their stage makeup only half removed, their heads lolling against each other's shoulders. Jasper and Emmett were giving Alice and Rosalie piggybacks – those four seemed remarkably full of energy. Though I guess it made sense since they were the favourites of every single audience and their nights were full of congratulations and clapping. The amount of applause they got, particularly Alice and Jasper, should have been for Jacob and me.

I wasn't the only one looking at the two couples with disdain – Tanya was trying to get Emmett's attention so he could carry her suitcase in but he was too busy trying to get Rosalie in a position to push Alice off Jasper. "Hello?" she shouted. "Emmett! My case is not going to just jump out itself."

"I don't know, Tanya!" Emmett called back, running up onto a step to gain an edge on their opponents. "Rosalie's already enough weightlifting for one day!"

"Hey!" Rosalie exclaimed and gave him a solid slap on the top of his head, cursing something in Russian. Her distraction was fatal as Jasper had crept up behind them, giving Alice a chance to zap her in the sides. She swore again and jumped off Emmett's back right into the hotel's tiny front flowerbed.

"We win!" Alice chimed.

"Tanya," Edward's tired voice immediately brought my focus back to my beloved understudy. He was pulling his suitcase and Tanya's huge, gold one behind him. "Come on."

Tanya's face lit up, "Thanks, Eddie!" she said, throwing her arm around his neck in a hug. He didn't move until she'd let go, then just started walking toward the door. Tanya followed, though she looked back, searching for where I was standing with my case, waiting for Jacob. A little smile came to her lips. I raised my eyebrow in return – it wasn't like Edward had hugged back…or reacted at all…

_Though he has before, _I reminded myself, that image of him with Tanya's leg hitched around his waist burning in my mind. It was becoming hazier now. I could hardly believe it had happened. The last few days – sleeping with Edward before opening night, the conversation before my first entrance as Juliet, yesterday's bizarre midnight rehearsal – I didn't even remember all the pain he had caused me. It almost seemed obsolete…

But it had happened. He had made out with Tanya minutes after leaving me and that was not okay, regardless of whatever excuse he may or may not have had and regardless of how he made me feel now. _Which I am not going to think about._

Jacob returned from the lobby, "There's a conference break-out room we can use until midnight."

"Great," I said. He gave me his signature smirk and we headed in.

\*\*/*/

There was something different in my mind that night, as we rehearsed the balcony scene for the ten millionth time. The relationship between Jacob and I had changed in my head.

"Lift your chest," Jacob told me, holding me above his head in an arabesque.

"Already done it," I muttered, then waited for him to sweep me back down into a fish dive. Only a week ago, I would have been hanging on to his every word, doing exactly as he said and being proud when I got it right. I entrusted my technique and my dancing all to him. But now, after so many rehearsals alone and after the immature, selfish way he had talked this morning, I didn't feel like submitting to him at all. We were equals now. I was Juliet and he was Romeo – they were both lead roles. And it wasn't like I needed any help with Monsieur Repin's technique anymore, since looking at myself and fixing every flaw was now permanently stamped at the front of my brain.

I wasn't in awe of Jacob anymore. He was just my partner. And my boyfriend.

This wasn't a welcome revelation, exactly. It was easy to blindly follow him. But now I was allowing myself to feel tired and annoyed and it made focusing almost impossible.

We finished the pas de deux and I glanced at my watch, "We should go," I said.

Jacob nodded, tugging off his shoes, "Same place tomorrow?"

"Sure," I replied tiredly as we both headed to our bags.

"So," Jacob said casually, sitting down next to me as I unfastened my pointes and pulled out some old lamb's wool that needed replacing. "Did you find out what Edward's up to?"

I dropped my shoes on the floor, my teeth pressing hard into my lip to stop myself from screaming at him. "Seriously?" I said quietly. "Is that really all you have to say?"

I took his two seconds of silence as an affirmative. I leapt up angrily, snatching up my shoes and bag, and stormed out before he had a chance to reply.

I was still fuming by the time I had sorted out my room number and found the elevator. How stupid was he? I had only told him what I thought about his obsession with Edward a few hours ago and now he was right back to it!

I wrenched my suitcase through the elevator doors when it reached my floor, cursing when a wheel got stuck in the crack. There was no sound behind any of the doors as I finally walked down the corridor – everyone was probably totally dead to the world.

I found my door and swiped the key card through.

"Oh what the hell!" I exclaimed as I saw Alice lying on one of the two beds with Jasper on top of her. Thank God they had their clothes on. I spun around and started to walk straight back down to reception to demand a new room.

"Bella!" Alice's voice was understandably flustered.

"Shouldn't you put a sock on the door or something?" I snapped, then gritted my teeth as I heard Jasper's badly concealed laugh. That did it. I spun back around to find them both standing, their hair mussed. "Alright, both of you get out."

"This is my room, too," Alice said. "I'm sorry – we thought I had no roommate. It's past midnight…"

Jasper gave an awkward smile, "I should go." He turned to Alice and gave her a chaste kiss, one hand cupping her cheek. She smiled and covered his hand with hers.

"Goodnight."

He smiled back and then let go, picking up his jacket. "Goodnight, Bella," he said as he passed me in the doorway.

I turned on Alice, "This must be a mistake."

She began to nod, but then shook her head, "Actually, I did sign up to be with you before we came to Aro's."

"Why would you do that?" I snapped.

She gave me a pointed look and then began pulling things out of her gigantic suitcase for bed.

I huffed and set about getting myself sorted. The room was tiny and narrow, with just enough space to fit two identical single beds and bedside tables. There was an alcove leading to a tired-looking bathroom.

"Not exactly the Ritz, is it?" Alice called from the other room.

"I thought you were through talking to me," I muttered, fishing around in my wash bag to find my toothbrush.

I heard her pause, and then say, "I'm trying to decide what will hurt you more."

"How kind."

"Any kind of emotion is good for you," she chimed. "So I'm not going to feel any guilt at all."

"Never expected you to," I muttered and flicked on my toothbrush. That was at least true; after what I had said to her in the fitting room.

I came back into the bedroom to see Alice zip up a bright yellow onesie. "What – " I stared at her, a laugh bubbling to my lips. "Is that a Pikachu onesie?"

Alice's face lit up in an excited grin, "Like it?" She pulled the hood over her head, showing the cartoon face, "Em and Rose got it for my birthday."

"Insane," I said with an involuntarily smile.

Alice looked at me and it was like old times, with her never-ending excitement and my clueless but spirited way of blundering through life. But it wasn't like that anymore.

I coughed and went back to my suitcase, studiously searching for my own pyjamas.

"You know," Alice said a little awkwardly, "You didn't have to forgive Jacob so quickly."

"I had to dance with him tonight," I muttered, peeling off my leo and throwing on a t-shirt and boxer shorts. "It would have been stupid to keep the tension up."

"Bella," she said gently. "It's not like the tension's not still there. You just let him get away with it all."

"Get away with what?" I said as I climbed into bed, practically having to wrench the sheets from under the mattress. "We were having an argument. You and Jasper have to have those occasionally."

"Plenty," she said with a smile, hugging her knees under the covers. "But we love each other equally. Jacob just seems so fixed on beating Edward at everything that it seems like he doesn't have time for you and your friends – like you said this morning."

"You don't know him," I snapped.

"Do you?" she asked quietly.

"Goodnight," I said stonily and flicked off my bedside lamp. I lay on my side, facing away from her. Alice's light went out a second later without a word.

I lay there in the darkness, listening as Alice's breathing slowly evened out. I felt bad. I shouldn't have snapped at her. But then I knew she was right – I didn't know Jacob very well at all. And that thought scared me. I hardly knew anything about Jacob outside of how he danced and what his coffee order was. I didn't know about his family or where he came from or what his parents did for a living. I didn't know what else had happened in that performance of _Giselle _two years ago, and Edward had assured me that something had.

Uneasiness stirred in me. I didn't know him at all...

_But Edward does, _I thought. Edward and Jacob – they had been best friends before _Giselle. _Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I trusted Edward's judgement; there must have been something good in Jacob. Something that Edward liked. There was a time when Jacob wasn't obsessed with hating Edward. When he'd had time to have proper friends and, well…fall in love, even if it was ill-fated. There was more to Jacob than just hate. And I had seen it, too. His kisses and his smiles and his early morning jokes. His patience with my awful technique.

That night when I couldn't get the penche and he let me put my hands on his shoulders and supported me as I slowly rose up onto my pointe. As I began to cry. He had been there for me.

_He really has been here for me, _I thought, turning onto my back. _He's not all bad. He's not obsessed._

It was typical of me, to be so situational with my emotions and forget the bigger picture. And forget the past. My past with Jacob had been healing and happy…and I should not have forgotten that.

Somewhere in there, there was the side of Jacob who I had laughed with and kissed freely. He was my partner and my boyfriend. I couldn't give up on him so easily – I had to try and get that side of him back.

The thought finally allowed me to sink into a deep sleep.

\*\*/*/

"Bella!" I heard Alice groan through the haze of some dream I'd already forgotten. "Your alarm's broken…"

I shot up in bed and glanced at the time. Four. "No it's not," I moaned and regretfully slipped out of bed to flick it off and change into a crop top and tights.

"You're crazy," Alice muttered before pulling her Pikachu hood over her eyes and ears and dropping back off to sleep.

Jacob was already there when I arrived at the break-out room. He was in a wife-beater and black sweatpants, using the back of a chair as a barre to warm up. He looked at me as I walked in, raising his eyebrows almost as if he was challenging me to say something.

I dropped my bag down next to his and grabbed another chair. I plonked it in front of him and then sat on it backwards, leaning on the back and staring up at his confused face. He was still doing piques. "What?" he asked as I kept staring at him.

I smiled and took a deep breath, "If you say the 'E' word today, or even just look at him, I'm going to start dancing out of time in our first pas de deux tonight. If you say it again, I will just go completely limp in the death scene and you will have to lug my entire weight up into the air without a single bit of help from me. And if you say it a third time, I will literally do everything in my power to make sure that this performance is almost as embarrassing as when you came on drunk in _Giselle."_

Jacob blinked, startled. "That's ridiculous. That will just make you look bad."

"Right," I scoffed. "You don't get it – we already look bad. The audience would probably like us better if we at least made our roles comedic."

"You're crazy," he said, disgusted.

I grinned at him, "Maybe. But just know that I will do it. I'm sick of my ex-boyfriend being more of your life than I am." I cocked my head to the side, "Or have you forgotten that ten minutes before he arrived, you told me you wanted me to be with you and no one else?"

He stared at me stonily for a long time, his dark eyebrows low and cross. He did kind of look like a scorned child. "Don't screw with me, Bella."

I shook my head, serious now, "You're screwing with yourself, Jacob. Trying to get back at Edward for taking your almost-girlfriend is not making your dancing any better. You need to forget about him. I'm just trying to help. Because I care about you."

"It's none of your business," he snarled, taking a step toward me.

"I'm your partner on and off the stage, Jacob – it is my business because it is affecting me far too much. So this is how it is going to be, got it?"

He huffed and shoved his fingers through his hair, "What are we rehearsing?"

I smiled, victorious, and put my pointe shoes on whilst telling him which track to put on. I knew I was playing a dangerous game, but he had to move on or the hatred would just keep on eating him up.

\*\*/*/

At ten to seven, we silently packed up our bags and went down to the lobby. Helen was waiting there, tapping her pointy-toed pump. She was in a severe black suit, looking about as welcoming as broken glass in a pointe shoe. "Finally," she said as we appeared, even though we were early. She turned brusquely and led us out into the cool morning air of Van Ness Avenue. A taxi was waiting.

The morning traffic was bad and it took a long time to get to the opera house. Helen didn't say a thing the whole way. We walked through the huge, white pillared foyer and into the theatre. The glow of the ghost light showed the depth and height of the enormous hall. I had hardly seen the audience and the seats last night – there was hardly any point looking up at curtain call when you knew they would all be getting up to leave – and so it sent a thrum of nerves down me to see how big the hall was. The huge chandelier reminded me of _Force's _own theatre, though those of course had the immortal words of the school's founder around it, making it more special.

"Isn't it majestic?" Helen said as we reached the orchestra pit. "Three thousand seats." Her dark eyes flicked between me and Jacob, "And you both made a complete mockery of yourselves, the ballet, the choreography, the company and _me _in front of those three thousand people last night, as you have on the other two nights."

"We've been rehearsing," I said, trying to assure her.

She folded her arms and shook her head, "I thought you two were mature enough to rehearse alone but clearly not. All the reviews I have received have said you are unemotional and under energized. So basically, you are not leaving this theatre until I am satisfied that tonight will not be such a horrific embarrassment. Besides, if they need more energy then you clearly need a higher fitness level. This should definitely do the trick."

Jacob glanced at me – supposedly telling me that I couldn't screw up tonight because of Helen. But I just smiled back since things really couldn't get any worse, anyway.

"Have you finished looking at each other?" Helen snapped.

"Oh definitely," Jacob said.

"From the start," she said, walking back up the aisle to find a seat in the centre of the stalls. "And move the ghost light to the back."

As soon as Jacob stepped on stage for his first variation, she was yelling at him, "Get your toe pointed! Fix your arabesque! Where is the turnout, Jacob?"

I shut my eyes. This was not good. Jacob was already doing all those things – he was using Monsieur Repin's technique, for God's sake. She was just trying to pick things that weren't even wrong, just to have something to 'correct'. "Smile, Jacob! Don't look so depressed!" Well, I guess that was one thing.

Jacob put on such a sarcastic smile that I burst out laughing.

"Bella, shut up! Now lift on the ensemble!"

I saw the fury in Jacob's eyes as she made him do every single step, including the ones where he was meant to be dancing with Rosalie or others. It was embarrassing for him and I understood completely. She was treating him like a child.

He finally came off, sweating and angry. "God help me, I am going to kill that bitch!"

"Bella! Where are you!"

"I'll help," I muttered, and ran on stage for my nursery scene.

"Smile!" she shouted straight away. I plastered the same sarcastic smile Jacob had had on my face and flitted around, pretending to be chased by Leah whilst holding a non-existent bear. "That is not meant to be a pas de chat!" _Actually, Helen, it is a pas de chat. You're just wrong. _I gritted my teeth behind my smile and kept going. She was so damned ignorant.

It only got worse as we got into the pas de deuxs. "Smile!" she kept shouting. "You're meant to be in love! Is that supposed to be a shoulder sit? I don't think so!"

Without the breaks of other dancers doing their variations and corps parts, we were dancing non-stop through some of the ballet world's most gruelling choreography. We went straight from the balcony scene to the bedroom scene, without a twenty minute interval in between. I could feel my heart squeezing, all my blood trying to get out to my extremities and back in fast enough. Jacob's nostrils were flaring as he lay on the floor, lifting and lowering my rigid body with his quivering arms. "Keep going," I tried to whisper to him, like he had always encouraged me. But it just came out as puffing. He eyes were focused on my forehead, full of pain.

"Tighten your abdomen, Bella!" My abdomen was fine. Everything about the movement was fine! Even in my soup of a brain, I was still using Monsieur Repin's technique – the amount of fixing I was actually doing was so miniscule that she wouldn't have noticed in the first place!

When I finally lay 'dead' on the stone slab, all my muscles seized up. My chest was heaving up and down, my whole body slippery with sweat. I could hear Jacob's heavy breathing next to me.

"You don't look dead enough!" Helen shouted. Her voice was getting hoarse.

"I'm complaining to Caius," Jacob whispered as we both tried to slow our breathing enough to look still. "Fuck, I'd tell the police if they'd even believe me."

The music finished. We finally opened our eyes and slowly sat up.

"Alright!" Helen clapped her hands, "From the top! Let's see what you've remembered."

Five seconds later, the music started again.

It was torture. There was no other word for it.

This time, Helen came onto the stage and began poking and prodding us. She pushed my cheeks up into a smile. She made Jacob arch his back more than he needed to. She was just changing things that weren't problems so that she thought she was making a difference.

Time passed. I hardly thought. It was a good thing I knew every step back to front from my own rehearsals because I was in no position to tell my body what to do. I was like a robot, feeling my legs lift and fall, push and stretch beneath me.

We did it again. There were five minutes of grace while Helen sorted out a microphone and then Jacob was dancing onto the stage once more to her now amplified shouts. "Why are you not smiling?" She shouted.

I was starting to believe she was actually insane.

It was five o'clock. I had run to the bathrooms during one of Jacob's variations to fill up both our water bottles but there was hardly a chance to drink, particularly for Jacob, who had extra scenes for sword fighting and corps parts. The third time we had done it, Helen stopped and started us. She made us repeat the bedroom scene twice. I was practically crying with pain and tiredness. My toes ached. I knew they were bleeding.

We were halfway through the fourth repetition, in the middle of the balcony scene, when the chandelier suddenly glowed into brilliant, golden life, showing the royal red coverings of the seats. We blinked in the light – I had almost forgotten that we'd only been working in the pale ghost light. Helen turned around from her spot on the stage. We took it as our cue to stop and immediately collapsed onto the stage floor. Our hot arms touched but neither of us could be bothered to move. My muscles seized up painfully once again, now that they weren't moving.

"Helen!" I heard Carlisle's voice call. "We were wondering where you were."

"We've been rehearsing," Helen replied. "And we're not done yet! Get up, come on!" Her tone was slightly less harsh than before.

I reached for Jacob's fingers and squeezed them, "We can't seem so pathetic in front of Carlisle," I whispered.

We painfully stood back up. Carlisle was standing in the aisle, hands on his hips and a slightly confused expression on his face. The rest of the company had just begun to come through the doors.

Helen clicked the remote and the music started again. _Come on, _I told my body and then ran to Jacob, letting him swiftly pull me into an upside down hold. I could feel his arms shaking. "Smile!" Helen shouted. "How many times do I have to tell you! Now don't lose that support coming out of the hold! Now the pirouette needs to be fluid! That is not fluid! Smile, for the love of – "

The music suddenly switched off. Carlisle was standing behind the sound desk, very still. "Company!" he called. The chattering from the others stopped immediately. "Go around to the backstage door and start getting into costume and makeup. Class will be in fifteen minutes. Someone find Edward and Tanya."

I swallowed – this did not sound good. The crowd moved back out with a few curious glances behind at us. Edward appeared through one of the side doors. "What's going on?" He asked, reaching Carlisle. He noticed me sitting on the stage. I must have looked awful because worry immediately creased his features. "Bella?"

And then he was hurrying up the temporary steps to where we were sitting. He tried to kneel down next to me but I waved him away. "I'm fine," I muttered.

"_We're_ fine," Jacob told him, struggling to his feet once again and then helping me up. I knew why he was doing it, but at this point I couldn't care less. He laid a hand on my shoulder, keeping me from swaying too much.

"Helen," Carlisle said, reaching the stage. I could tell he was furious. All three of us knew to be silent. Helen did up her suit button and placed her hands together, seemingly calm.

"Carlisle."

He looked at her with total transparency, "What are you doing?" He pointed a long finger at Jacob and me. "Why do these two children look like you have just beaten them senseless?"

"Things needed to be fixed," Helen replied primly. "And they are not children – they're old enough to be in a professional company."

"But they are not in a professional company," Carlisle said with barely concealed rage. "They are under my care and they can hardly stand up!"

From the corner of my eye, I saw Edward's fist clench by his side, his knuckles turning white.

"You have seen the reviews!" Helen hissed. "Something had to be done!"

Edward broke his silence with a snarl, "And you think the way to do that is to make them dance until they collapse?"

Carlisle gave Edward a warning look before turning back to Helen, "This has not helped, Helen. The issues those reviewers have brought up are not going to be fixed by over-rehearsing. All this has done is left me with two leads who can't dance tonight! Now where is Tanya?"

It took a moment for his words to reach my brain, "Wait!" I exclaimed at the same time as Jacob yelled something else. "We can dance tonight!"

"I'm here!" came that sickly sweet voice from the back of the theatre. "Sorry!" She called, bustling down the aisle with five shopping bags, "was just getting my nails done!"

Carlisle looked to me, "I don't think that is a good idea, Miss Swan."

I shook my head, "We're fine, honestly, Carlisle – we haven't been rehearsing for that long."

"Just a couple of hours," Jacob said. "We were just working hard."

Carlisle didn't buy it for a single second, "The last time I saw a dancer look as overworked as you, Miss Swan, was when I met my wife at the Paris Opera, and she was so tired that she got chronic fatigue. I'm not going to take chances."

"It's just one performance," I said, considering getting on my knees to beg. I knew exactly what would happen if Tanya and Edward were allowed to dance in our places. "And then we'll have that whole plane journey to Chicago to rest."

Carlisle looked between me and Jacob, and then to the furious Edward and finally at Tanya, who was inspecting her manicure and clearly hadn't realized just how close she was to getting my role.

Eventually, Carlisle rubbed his eyes and sighed, "Fine. But Edward and Tanya will be on standby, in costume, in case I make the call to pull you."

"Wait, what?" Tanya said, finally looking up.

Carlisle just continued, eyeing us carefully, "If I say you're done for the night, though, that is it – you're off."

Jacob and I both nodded. We wouldn't show our tiredness. There was no way we were going to let them step foot on our stage.

"Now go and get something to eat," Carlisle told us. "Helen – shall we take a walk?"

"Bella," Edward said, walking beside me as we went through the wings. His cologne swamped me. "Seriously – are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said. "Like I said two minutes ago."

"You look like hell, sweetie," Tanya said. "Can't wait to take your place."

"Tanya," Edward muttered. "Shut up."

"Someone's in a mood," Jacob said.

"Of course I'm in a fucking mood!" Edward exclaimed as we went out into the corridor. "Both of you should be resting, not following her ridiculous teaching methods."

"Oh, how touching," Jacob scoffed.

Edward stepped directly in front of him, blocking him in his path. Jacob was slightly broader, but Edward had the height, and he stared down at Jacob now, fuming, "Some stupid part of me still gives a shit about you, Jacob. I would be grateful, since I'm the only person you'll get who cares."

Jacob seemed to have enough energy left to smirk, cheekiness lighting his eyes, "Actually, Bella cares."

Edward stared at him, his green eyes terrifyingly sinister. "Then you're lucky," he murmured, before shoving past him and heading in the opposite direction to us.

* * *

><p>Okay! Two very important questions:<p>

1. What did you think?

2. Sequel - I swore this would be the second and final sequel to Clair de Lune, but inspiration has kinda hit again and I am considering a third addition to Bella's story. I know you don't have any clue where Pas de Trois will leave things yet, but I'm curious nonetheless.

Hopefully there will be an update within the next week! Just have to get over a performance, flu and three exams...but 'twill be fine!

Please review! Thanks for all your support and for reading!


	34. Chapter 34

Surprise!

I am ashamed - I really need to start working on school stuff...yikes!

Okay! I hope you enjoy!

**Thanks so much for all your reviews so far - keep them coming! And your responses to the sequel idea are great, too :)**

**Please do enjoy and review!**

* * *

><p><em>Nero - Two Steps From Hell<em>

_Above and Beyond - Audiomachine_

_Juliet's Death - Prokofiev (the man is awesome)_

* * *

><p>Next to my dressing room, in some kind of bizarre miracle, was a vending machine. After searching through my bag and all my pockets, I was tiredly able to count the amount of money I needed to get a granola bar. I found myself leaning against the glass – how was I meant to keep Tanya from taking my role when I needed to be supported just to buy food?<p>

I ripped open the bar as soon as it came out and ate it all in the space of a minute – I hadn't had breakfast or lunch and dinner last night…I couldn't even remember if that had happened or not.

"Oh God," I groaned, my stomach suddenly turning. I clamped a hand over my mouth and made a run for the bathrooms.

Whatever nutrition had entered my body in the past few hours was flushed down the toilet in a matter of seconds. I dragged myself up from the bathroom floor and leant over a sink, staring at my drawn, tired face in the mirror.

"Bella?" I looked up to see Vicky, dressed in a sharp, dark red cocktail dress, enter. "Are you okay?"

I gave her a sour smile, "Something didn't agree with me."

It was weird to see Vicky looking sympathetic, but she quickly set about getting paper towels and dampening them slightly. "I heard about what happened with Helen. It's probably just exercise-related nausea."

"Great," I muttered as she dabbed at my face.

"I used to run cross country in elementary school – it happened every so often."

"I thought dancers weren't meant to run."

She smiled, "I was a kid. I wasn't always so strict."

I couldn't think of a polite reply to that, so said nothing while she finished cleaning me up. "Come on," she said. "I'll help you with your makeup."

"Thanks," I said gratefully. Grateful to Vicky? This day was turning out to be very screwed up.

"Aren't you a bit dressed up for a second night performance?" I asked as we reached my dressing room.

"I also don't work all the time," she said, sitting me down in a chair and picking up my foundation.

"Hot date?" I asked. I don't know why I was being so bold with a teacher, but I was too tired to care.

She layered my face in foundation, paying careful attention to the bags under my eyes, "An old friend from the San Francisco Ballet is taking me out for dinner."

"Is he straight?"

She laughed, "I think so. I hope so."

"So he _is _a hot date."

"Maybe," she said, grabbing the eyeliner. "My track record with guys isn't great. And I am crap at sensing gay from straight so maybe I should just ask him at the beginning."

"I think I'd rather spend the meal in blissful ignorance and pretend he's into me," I said. It was weird – what was spurting from my brain? Normal girl talk with my terrifying and loathed ballet mistress?

"And then see whether he slips the waiter his number or not? I think blissful ignorance might not be the best idea. It'll just make you miserable after."

"But if you're stuck with him for the meal…" she started on my eye shadow and I realized that I was no longer thinking about Vicky's gay or straight friend – I was thinking about Jacob. Except that I wasn't stuck with him for an hour – I had to dance with him every night for two weeks. That was why I had to find the good in him, somehow.

"There's no point in wasting time searching for something that's not there," Vicky said quietly, pausing with the brush in her hand.

I stared at her in the mirror. How could she be so astute?

She gave me a smile, "I mean, a gay guy is a gay guy – no amount of flirting is going to change that."

"Right," I said, recovering. God, I was getting paranoid.

"So are you excited for tonight?" she asked, applying blush up my cheekbones.

"With Tanya waiting in the wings to take my place because I'm so tired?" I said. "No, not really."

"Just pace yourself," Vicky suggested. "And don't stop moving when you get off stage – trust me, you will do better that way."

"Thanks," I said.

She tilted my chin up to do my lips, "I might be a tough teacher, but when it's my student versus another, I'll be gunning for you. Right! You're good to go!"

"Thank you so much," I said, standing up. "Have fun at your dinner, whether he's gay or not."

Vicky grinned, "I'll try my best. Have a good show."

\*\*/*/

For the first time since the start of the tour, I went to company warm up. Everyone was whispering as I walked onto the stage in costume. That was when I saw Tanya already standing at one of the portable barres, in an identical dress to my own.

I found Danny, Bridget and Adela standing near the back and went to join them. "What happened, Bella?" Bridget asked me immediately. I just shook my head and started warming up.

Then, of course, Edward walked on in a costume similar to Jacob's – a handsome blue doublet and white shirtsleeves and tights. Emmett clapped him on the back as he took his place near the front of the barre. Nerves stirred in my stomach – if Jacob got pulled out, would I really have to dance with him?

Jeffrey Evans was taking class tonight, and he was about as interesting in his combinations as wet toilet paper. Following Vicky's advice, I paced myself and tried to focus my mind. Monsieur Repin's technique would not fail me if I could just shut out all the other thoughts and worries in my head.

Class finished with Tanya's irritating laugh as she did a few extra bourrés. Her nails were still glittering gold – she would be almost dangerous to partner with claws like that.

We cleared the stage and the crew wheeled on the great staircases and stalls of the market place. The heavy red curtains were hauled into place and the audience came in with a wave of chatter.

I waited in the wings as the music started and Jacob and Emmett ran on. Jacob looked so tired, but you could only see it in his face – the rest of his body was supple and agile as he moved across the stage, dancing with Rosalie and Danny. Beyond the frolicking movements of the corps and boys, I could see Edward standing in the wings, his arms folded, watching. He looked tired and thoughtful, his mind somewhere else. I wondered what he was thinking about.

As if sensing my gaze upon him, he looked up and across at me, our eyes meeting. There was something so…so sad in his look. A shiver went through me. Something was going to happen. He was planning something…something painful. I would not find out yet, though. He turned away and I saw him run a hand through his hair as he walked off into the shadows of the wings.

I sighed and leant back against the back of the proscenium. Tanya was using the safety fence around the pulleys as a barre as she stretched, all ready to go on. I rolled my eyes and tried to block her and Edward from my mind.

I survived Act One. Every time I came off, Tanya watched me anxiously to see if I was going to collapse. But I didn't. I did jumping jacks and barre exercises and even ran through the crossover and back – I was not going to falter now. I kept my body alive through not letting it rest. I was worried, though – the balcony scene hadn't as well as it usually did. It was harder for Jacob as the male dancer. He didn't just need to be fast and energetic enough, he also had to be able to lift me and catch me and carry me in almost every scene.

As the opening music played for the start of Act Two, I hurried on behind the curtains to my 'bed'. Jacob was already there.

"Are you okay?" I whispered. There was a sheen of sweat across his forehead.

"I'm still going to kill her," he muttered faintly.

I wanted to say more, but the curtains were opening and Jacob was up, hurrying across the room to fetch his cloak and sneak out. I woke and ran to him, pulling him away from the window and instead starting another pas de deux. This one was full of holds and dips as Juliet tried to get Romeo to stay and not go into exile. I could hear Jacob's breathing become more and more ragged as we danced. I heard the grunt as he lifted me above his head. He let me down a little early – his arms couldn't take the strain.

I tried to make eye contact with him as he lay back on the ground, pulling me down with him, but he was resolutely staring down at his chest and hands as they cupped my ribcage, ready to push me up in the air. He tried. He got my body up…but then his strength just left and he brought me down without any control, my chest landing on his.

"Just make it up," I whispered, even as he tried to lift me again. I wouldn't let him. Instead, I lay down properly on him and then arched my back, rising up like Odette in Swan Lake. I brought my arms behind me and raised my face to the hot stage lights, hoping I was doing a good impression of a love-drunk teenager. I did this twice more in place of Jacob lifting me, giving him time to recuperate enough to get me back up onto my feet.

He stood in front of me and kissed me. "What the Hell was that?" he whispered as the kiss finished. And then he had snatched up his cloak once more and leapt out the window.

The lights went down on me with my arm outstretched, watching him go.

I ran off stage, terrified that Jacob wasn't going to be allowed to keep going.

"That was some creative choreography," Tanya said as I entered the wing.

"Has Jacob been taken off?" I demanded.

She shook her head, "Nope."

"Thank God," I whispered.

The act went on. I took my potion and lay on my bed as Bridget and some other corps girls danced around me, thinking I was dead. Then Jacob found out I had died and came back to Verona, buying the lethal potion from a really unconvincing apothecary. He looked okay, but I was worried – there was no way he could do the death scene in his state. Even with my support, he was still having to throw my limp body about the stage.

Still, we got ready stage left – me and the corps boys in their long, hooded cloaks. They raised me above their heads in a funeral procession. As the high, thin violins played a single, chilling note, they carried me on into the dark tomb, laying me down on the great stone slab. My arms were crossed over my chest, my eyes shut, my loose hair fanning out underneath me. I could quite easily have fallen asleep.

The corps boys left, leaving Paris to have his own sob and dance. We were finally reaching the end of his variation. Nerves stirred in me, making me feel ill again. What was Jacob going to do? He couldn't perform this pas de deux – he would injure himself.

"Bravo!" came a shout from the audience. The entire theatre suddenly broke out into applause. I almost opened my eyes, confused. Joseph really wasn't that good. I heard the clatter of Paris's knife and then the thunk of body hitting the floor. And then the quiet steps as Jacob made his way up to where I lay…

Except that it wasn't Jacob. His hands clasped mine, his scent surrounded me. Edward. It was Edward. I heard his desperate breath as he tried to put my arms around his neck in an embrace. But they just slipped off, limp – dead. Then his arm was coming around my waist, pulling me off the stone. I rested lifelessly against his body as he carried me forward, his hand fisting the fabric of my death dress. I felt his forehead pressing against my hair, his warm breath in my ear. I felt his pain like nothing else existed in the world.

And then seemed to want to scream and threw me up into what would have once been a shoulder sit, but now my back just arched over his shoulder, my head falling back. I slid back down as he pulled me across his body, laying me down on the cold stage. He stood over me, and I just knew he was looking at my body, breathing heavily, trying to find some reason…some way for me not to be dead. In a sharp intake of breath, he had taken both my hands and had pulled me from the floor, throwing me over his shoulder again. He stumbled back, clasping me to him, but I still slid down, back onto the floor.

And then he was on his knees at my side. I heard his shaking breath as his hands ran down my sides. He pressed himself against me, his forehead against my chest, his hand reaching up to stroke my hair. Slowly, painfully, he raised his head, his fingers touching my parted lips. I felt the sobs wracking his body as he delicately drew the line of my mouth, and then gently, so gently, pressed his lips to mine.

I felt the tear slide from my cheek, felt the pain squeeze at every part of my being as he kissed me and yet I could not respond. I could not kiss my love back.

He realized this, pulling himself away from me, distancing himself.

Eventually, his arms gently slid under my body and he pulled me into his arms, cradling me against his warm chest.

He carried me back up to the stone slab, laying me back in the centre with such care.

I heard the pop of the bottle stopper, and then the bottle clattering against the floor and Edward falling back against the stone pillar. He staggered forward to where I lay. His hand ran over my ribs…down my leg, pulling at the fabric…and then he was gone. Dead.

I woke with a start, sitting bolt upright. It took me a second to realize I was meant to be looking for Romeo – that he was meant to be coming to take me away. I jumped off the slab, running to the side. Where was he?

And then I saw Paris' body. I pulled it over, seeing his lifeless face and then the dagger lying on the floor.

I leapt up, running away, scared…only to see Romeo, lying beside the slab. Dead…

I sunk to my knees. Edward's eyes were shut, his pale lids forever blocking those green eyes from me. I put a hand to his face, cupping his cheek. I shuddered with a sob. A real one. And then I was pulling him into my arms, pushing his body against mine as he had, just trying to feel his embrace once more. I wished he would put his arms around me. I wished he would thread his fingers through my hair and hold me. But he wouldn't.

Slowly, I lowered him back down, his head hanging back from the stone step.

I stood and took the dagger from where it lay. Without a thought, I plunged it into my stomach. It fell to the ground as I fell against the pillar. But no. I could not die here. Staggering, and then crawling, I climbed back onto the slab, dragging myself across its smooth surface until Edward's perfect face came into view. I reached for his hand. And died.

The lights went down. I heard the curtains slide shut.

Tears slid down my cheeks as Edward stood up. "Bella?" he whispered. I shakily sat up. He looked at my tear streaked face and then brought his hands to my face, silently wiping them away.

The stage crew were waiting for us to get off. With an arm around my shoulders, Edward helped me off the slab and into the wings.

"I'm sorry," I murmured.

"It's been a long day," he replied. His own voice didn't seem entirely settled.

Around us, the corps were lining up and running on for their curtain call. We stepped back to let them pass.

"You should find Jacob," said Edward. "He's not in a great state."

"Actually, I'm fine." Actually, Jacob really did look awful as he stepped in between me and Edward, putting a hand on my back. His posture was bent, his eyes sunken. He looked at Edward, "Or are you planning on taking my curtain call, too?"

Edward shook his head and held his hand out, ushering us forward, "It's all yours."

"Edward…" I started, but Jacob was pulling me on stage. The audience were still clapping, at least.

I stepped forward and took my curtsy. The audience seemed a little more enthusiastic than usual…but no standing ovation. Jacob stepped forward and the applause dropped. If only they knew the stress his body had been put under today – they would understand why he hadn't been able to finish the ballet. But all they knew was that Edward, fresh faced and already famous, had come in and danced the last scene to perfection.

The call started up as we were taking the whole company bow – "Masen! Masen! Masen!"

Jacob's hand gripped mine painfully tight.

The curtains swung shut and we all hurried off. Edward wasn't even backstage. The shouts died down as they realized he wouldn't be coming out.

Jacob was furious. He shoved people out of his way as he made for his dressing room. I reached my own and simply sunk onto my chair, exhausted and…alive. My body felt sore and aching and strained…but my head was buzzing with what had just occurred. That dancing. That way of dancing…I had forgotten what it felt like to be so in the moment that every emotion felt real – _was _real.

\*\*/*/

The late night bus to the airport was humming with gossip as everyone talked about the night's surprises. I sat at the back with the Royals, but they were chattering about it just as much. Edward was somewhere up the front. I had avoided looking at him as I'd got on – I wasn't sure what to think or what to do yet. Did this change things? My taste of what ballet used to be like? It did. It had to. I just didn't know how.

We reached the airport and checked in with an hour to spare. Everyone spread out, looking around the shops and finding food.

Jacob found himself a seat in a corner and shoved his headphones in his ears, blocking out the world. I didn't feel like being around anyone, either. I was exhausted and confused. I thought about getting something to eat but it made my stomach stir. I settled for coffee. I roamed through the airport, trying to find somewhere that was neither shut nor clogged up with NFSI dancers. On the second floor, there was an automatic coffee machine. Sighing, I unravelled a few notes and pushed them in. What looked like mud started filling up my cup. But coffee was coffee – I just needed the caffeine. There was a kind of lounge area around the corner from the machine. I was about to turned into it and find a seat when I heard voices.

"Something needs to be changed, Carlisle." Was that Jeffrey Evans?

"I don't disagree," I heard Carlisle reply. Carefully, I snuck up right to corner of the wall, trying to hear.

"The audiences hate them," Jeffrey continued. "We've already lost tickets – people want refunds. And tonight was shameful."

"That was not entirely their fault, Jeff," Vicky pitched in. I absently wondered how her dinner had gone. "And I heard the end was fantastic."

"Edward was fantastic," Helen said. "Though it was an easy scene technically. Bella was less so. She looked like a deer in the headlights."

"It's hardly a girl's scene," Vicky replied. "Besides, she wasn't exactly a hundred percent, was she?"

"Enough," Carlisle said firmly. "We have put this afternoon's episode behind us for the moment. We now need to think about the future of the tour."

"Well there's only one possible combination," Jeffrey said. "Get rid of Jacob and Bella altogether – put in Edward and Tanya."

"That is ridiculous," came Caius' grumbling voice. "Jacob should stay. He is not the issue."

"I agree with Caius," said Helen. "Bella is the issue here. Besides, if there's one thing worse than Jacob Black, it's Edward Masen. He is too unreliable."

"The audience liked him," Vicky said.

Helen scoffed, "Tonight, maybe. But you can never tell with him – one day he's perfect and the next he stops right in the middle of an audition or decides to snap his leg."

"That was years ago," said Carlisle. "No, if you are so fixed on taking Bella out then you will also replace Jacob. He is worse than her and does not deserve this if she doesn't."

"They're both boring as hell," Jeffrey muttered.

"I don't get it," Vicky spoke up again. "Why is no one considering Bella and Edward?"

"If Jacob is going then Bella is going," Caius said.

"Don't be biased," Vicky said. "They were amazing tonight."

"You weren't even there," Helen snapped. "I am with Caius again on this – if Jacob is going then Bella is as well. She just leeches off her partner anyway."

"Then it's settled," Carlisle sighed. "Tanya and Edward it is."

"No," Vicky said. "That's ludicrous!"

Carlisle must have silenced her, for then he said, "But we shall give them one last night to prove themselves. Tomorrow night is theirs. Then we will make the final decision on whether or not Tanya and Edward should replace them."

"That's just another night wasted," Helen said.

"I sensed a change in her tonight," Carlisle murmured. "Perhaps we shall all be surprised."

"_This is a boarding call for all remaining passengers travelling to Chicago tonight on American Airlines flight 430 – please board now through gate seventeen."_

"Time to go," Jeffrey said. I heard them all standing up.

Quickly, I hurried back down the stairs with my lukewarm coffee, my brain in a whirl. Everything had changed.

* * *

><p>Alright! I must, must, must start working now!<p>

Thanks for reading! Please do review, even if you review the last chapter - much has changed...

Also, thanks for responses about the sequel. To clear one thing up a little vaguely, everything in Pas de Trois will of course be resolved before the sequel - it will be a new page for our dearest Bella. Heh, sorry that is rather vague but I won't spoil the story!

Cheers, Amberdeen


	35. Chapter 35

13:30 am and school in a few hours...oops...

So happy to be updating!

Barely scraped an Excellence in my last internal so no more Fanfiction writing the day before exams and such again!

**Still, thank you so much for all your reviews! You make it almost worth it!**

**Really glad the last chapter was enjoyed - thanks for commenting!**

Do hope you enjoy this one - it is only half a chapter as it was getting too long.

Please review!

* * *

><p><em>Skylar Grey - Don't Look Down<em>

_Clair de Lune - Debussy (je l'aime!)_

* * *

><p>It was a non-stop four hour flight from San Francisco to Chicago. The other passengers all stared at us as we filed onto the plane. I guess there's a certain look all ballet dancers have – tired and, almost always, pretty skinny or muscular.<p>

As soon as we were in the air and the seatbelt sign was off, I got up and went to find Jacob. We were in alphabetical order so he wasn't too hard to spot, being in the first row. I walked briskly up the aisle to him, desperate to tell him the news. But I found him asleep, his eyes shut, his face so relaxed. His dark lashes brushed his tanned skin, his brows pressed together slightly. I had never seen him so unguarded and vulnerable. He was usually so focused and intense. His hands lay in his lap. Even now, his pointer fingers seemed to be lifted – a true dancer. Seeing him like this gave me a little hope that we could turn things around tomorrow. Because I knew that if we wanted any chance of keeping our roles, we had to change everything.

The cabin lights dimmed. I gave Jacob one more affectionate look. I wouldn't burden him with the news; what difference would it make, anyway? He needed to rest.

I went back to my seat and pulled the thin, complimentary blanket up over me. I was exhausted. The two USB girls beside me were both asleep, just like everyone else, it seemed. I closed my eyes…

But my mind was wide awake. _"We shall give them one last night to prove themselves…then we will make the final decision…"_

"_She looked like a deer in the headlights."_

"_Bella is the issue here."_

"_She's boring as hell…"_

What was I going to do? How could I possibly prove myself? How could I change everything in a day? Was that even a good idea? I had worked so hard to dance the way I did…and yet now it appeared that the audiences hated it. They hated me.

I crossed my legs and uncrossed my legs, twisting from side to side restlessly. I realized I wanted to be in a ballet studio right now, not cooped up on a plane. I remembered the feeling of the last scene with Edward – the aching pain and thrill of each step. But if I really had looked like a deer in the headlights, it wouldn't surprise me. I hadn't danced in that way for such a long time. I had drilled it out of my head. How long would it take to get it back in there? Was it even possible? It felt as foreign as it did familiar.

But I would have to find a way or I would spend the rest of the tour in the audience. And I didn't think I could face that, even if Tanya was better than me.

I didn't sleep_. _I tried to watch a movie and listen to music. I even tried to read the inflight magazine. But I was too tired. And yet my mind would not let me rest.

When the cabin lights finally flickered back on and the pilot announced our descent into Chicago, I could hardly lift a finger to put my seatbelt on. Everyone else was drowsily waking up and getting all excited again – it was Chicago, after all. But I just wanted to get off and collapse, even though I was sitting down already. Caius came round to tell everyone the procedure for when we landed. I could hardly look at him. It was ironic that my ex-headmaster was the one to give me one more chance and Caius was the one to turn completely against me.

I found Jacob's bag for him at the carousel and brought it to him. He didn't even thank me, but I understood how long his day had been. And how humiliating. I let him be alone – tomorrow was going to be a strain for him.

A bus met us outside the airport and drove us through the flashing lights of downtown Chicago. A headache slowly started to throb in my temples so I turned away from the window and closed my eyes again. Nothing. Sleep just wasn't going to happen. It was almost two in the morning by the time the bus pulled up outside our hotel. Everyone got their bags and room keys sorted fairly quickly, then listened to Carlisle's announcement of a late class tomorrow so that they could rest.

I met Jasper in the corridor, carrying a sleeping Alice in his arms. He gratefully offloaded one of his bags to me and let me open the door to our room. It was similar to the last, with a view looking right into some office windows and two single beds with clashing purple and blue bedspreads. "Crazy girl," he murmured, pulling back the sheets with one hand and laying her down.

"She's too energetic," I said with a smile, putting her suitcase at the foot of her bed. My head was still throbbing.

"Can't be more tired than you, though," Jasper replied, tugging off her shoes. He was the perfect boyfriend – that much was undeniable. He looked up at me, a lock of blonde hair over one eye, "You danced well tonight. Edward was very lucky."

"That Jacob was so exhausted that he could remind everyone who was better?" I muttered. It wasn't really a retort – just a tired question.

"No," said Jasper, pulling the covers over Alice and gently tucking her in. "That he got the chance to dance with you."

"I was dead half the time," I reminded him, tugging out my hairpins – maybe that was the source of my headache.

Jasper laughed softly, finally straightening up, "Still, I have not seen him dance like that in a long time. And when he dances like that, I wonder why he bothers going to _Force. _In Russia, he would already be a soloist with the Bolshoi, at least, not still hanging around with us students. Our careers are already short as it is."

"Are you calling me short?" came a mumble from behind Alice's jet black hair.

Jasper grinned and bent down to kiss her on the cheek, "Not at all, my dwarf."

She grumbled something or other and pulled him back down for a proper kiss. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Alice," Jasper whispered, brushing back her hair. She was already back to sleep. He gave her one final, doting look. "And goodnight, Bella," he said to me on the way out. "Sleep well!"

"You too," I said as he shut the door.

I sat down on my bed and blinked. Once. Twice.

And then I was up, grabbing my dance bag and tugging my hair back up into a ponytail as I went out the door.

I found the hotel's one conference room and quickly pushed back the tables. I would no doubt get in trouble with the hotel later, but I didn't really care. I pulled on some leggings and took off my skirt, exchanging my flats for pointes. It was a good sized room – it would almost constitute a stage.

I placed my phone on a table and cranked it up to full volume. I was used to rehearsing without music, but I knew that what I was doing had always required that connection with the music – it wasn't just counting.

I turned it to my first variation and began.

It was a bouncing, boisterous waltz, with pirouettes and little jumps. I started from the back of the 'stage', stepping onto pointe and spinning on my toes, careful to have my chest up and my arm in the right position…

I stopped and paused the music. "Focus, Bella," I whispered to myself. "Well, unfocus…"

Happy – the music was happy. And she was meant to be happy; it was her ball and she'd just seen this handsome stranger in a mask.

I tried again. The smile plastered to my face felt so fake it could have practically fallen off.

_Happiness, _I thought. How was I meant to do this? How had I done it earlier – gotten into the whole world of the dance, like it was really happening?

I knew Edward had been there. But I had done this on my own, too. And I had to do it again. I tried. I tried and tried. I listened to the music intently, trying to connect with its joy. I could hear its emotion…it just stirred nothing in me.

It wasn't long before I gave up with that variation. I sat down on the table and just held my head in my hands. I was so tired. So painfully tired. But I had my last chance in fourteen hours' time – there was no way I could stop now.

And then the music began. Those still, hushed notes, dropping into my soul like rain on the ground. And it was truly my soul, because I felt my whole being breathe with each phrase. I closed my eyes, letting the delicate piano notes pull me in.

I danced. I danced like I used to, with the glorious stretch in my arms as I reached with each arabesque for that unknown, intangible thing. I felt the air brush around me as I spun, felt the breath flow in and out with each step, with each sweet change of the piano's chords. I did not feel tired or sore. I just felt like I was floating. As the fast notes swirled around me, I soared, twirling, spinning; dancing. But then they slowed…

…_and we found ourselves back in the middle, at the beginning. Edward slowly turned me, making me as delicate as the notes themselves. And as they reached their final flourish, we stood chest to chest, perfectly aligned. I looked up, into his calm eyes. It wasn't so much a conscious look we gave now, but something deeper...inexplicable. The last note faded, and our lips gently touched…_

A tear slid down my cheek. I had stopped dancing.

Shakily, I sunk to the floor, wrapping my arms around my knees. The tears flowed and flowed as I finally, finally let in the memories of what it had once been like. The love I had felt for him. The connection we had had. That connection which made everything else so…insignificant. Dancing with him had been perfect – there was no other word for it. To know a person's heart and mind so well that each step was so perfectly together seemed impossible now, and yet it had happened. It had all happened. Everything I had pushed away, everything I had locked in the back of my mind. It washed over me now, in waves of excruciating, glorious pain. The Bella Swan of _Force _in her entirety, who followed her heart recklessly, even to the point of lying to the one she loved the most so that she could just spend a day more with him in the bliss he gave her. He had made me happy. I had pretended for such a long time that he had always been hurting me, even before that one horrible last day. But it was all made out of passion. Pure, unrelenting passion.

I stayed there for a long time after the piece finished. When all my tears had been shed, I stood back up and turned my music back to the first variation.

I danced. It wasn't easy, trying to pull up happiness from the strange, empty cavern in my chest. I had pretended to be fulfilled. I hadn't been. Rehearsals and coffee breaks – that wasn't enough to live on. But that had been my life for these past months. Now, what was there to hold onto? How could I be a happy, unconcerned fourteen-year-old girl?

But I did my best. I just felt through the moves with the music, learning them in a different way to how I knew them before. I realized why the choreographer had put a turn there, or wanted her forward in another section. I began to understand the music…but the connection was still not there, not in its entirety.

At six, I left my bag and phone behind and went to get Jacob. The corridors blurred a little as I counted down the doors but I ignored it. There were more important things than tiredness to contend with. I knocked on Jacob's door and heard a faint grunt on the other side. Eventually, it creaked open and Gerry stood there in just his boxer briefs.

"Oh, come on!" I exclaimed.

He was clearly not awake enough to care, "What are you doing here, Bella?"

"Jacob," I said in lieu of an explanation and walked on in.

"Bella, he needs sleep," Gerry said, waking up a little more.

I went to the big lump in the second bed and shook. "Jacob," I whispered. "Wake up."

There was a groan. And then nothing.

"Jacob!" I said a little louder, giving his shoulder a poke. "You need to get up."

"Piss off," came a murmur.

"No," I said. "They're replacing us, Jacob."

"Go talk to your ex," he said into the pillow. "Dick."

"Jacob!" I said loudly, pulling off his covers. He rolled over, his face furious. "If we don't change everything by tonight, they're _replacing_ us. Edward is going to be playing Romeo permanently."

"What?" he finally sat up. "Turn on the light."

Gerry huffed and flicked on the bedside lamp. Thank God he'd thrown a pair of pants on.

Jacob blinked and rubbed his eyes, "How do you know this?"

"While you were sulking, I was eavesdropping on the teachers' conversation."

"They can't do this," he said, standing up. All his joints clicked. He cracked his neck. "Carlisle Cullen is such a dick."

"It was more Helen and Caius, actually," I said.

"It's probably your turn out they want to ditch," he muttered, pulling on a t-shirt. "And your arabesque loses more height every night."

"Jacob," I said, putting a hand on his arm. He stopped and looked at me distastefully, but I didn't let go. "Look, it's not our technique that's the issue. It's the lack of everything else. We're boring and you know that."

He shook my hand off and snatched his bag up from the floor, "You've been talking to Edward again."

"I danced differently last night!" I exclaimed. "And the audience liked me for once!"

"No they didn't," he snapped, turning on me. "They liked Edward because they've always liked Edward."

I ignored the burning comment and kept going, "But have you ever wondered _why _they like Edward, Jacob? It's not because you got drunk and he took over! It's because they understand his dancing! He gives himself to the audience in a way that you never have!"

Jacob's look scorched me. He was beyond furious. So furious his face blurred…but maybe that was just me…

"Jacob…" Gerry began, seeing the same anger I saw. "Just calm down."

"Jacob," I whispered quietly, desperately. "You helped me once, when I didn't even think I could continue with ballet – you taught me so much. And now it's my turn to help you."

"I don't need your help."

"Then what are you going to do?" I asked. "Just dance the same as you always do?"

"I'm going to rehearse," he said and marched through the door.

I gave Gerry an exasperated look and followed Jacob out.

"Well, I'm rehearsing with you," I called.

"Fine," he replied, not slowing down.

"It's the third floor," I told him as I reached the elevator. He begrudgingly pressed the button.

He began barre straight away, without a single word to me.

I turned on my music and began dancing again, in some kind of hope that he would see that it wasn't so bad. It was my first variation again, with all the twirls and arabesques. I felt the satisfaction as the music rose and turned with me, as if each note was written perfectly for the movement. But my worry for Jacob still came through, making me lose focus at points. I wished I could sink back into that feeling _Clair de Lune _had given me. Even if it had been so painful, it had lifted the weight of everything off my shoulders and just let it all out for a moment.

"You're sloppy," Jacob remarked as I finished.

"You were watching," I replied, turning off the music. "Really, it's not that bad, Jacob."

"It's not the way I do things." He continued on with his frappes – his leg swinging up and then sharply back down. He looked like a soldier – with military efficiency and blankness.

"But why not try?" I said. "Why not just see what it's like?"

"Because this is the only way I know!" Jacob snapped, stopping.

I felt sympathy creep into my mind, "You can do it, Jacob," I said softly. "I know you can dance with more than just technique."

"You've never seen me do it," he said.

I gazed at him – this boy who seemed so confident and sure of himself…and yet couldn't show people that person on stage. "You have done it before," I said. "A long time ago – before Monsieur Repin. There must have been some reason you wanted to dance."

"I've grown up," he replied.

"A grown up wouldn't give up their dream because they were afraid to try something new." I looked at him bluntly, "You're going to lose Romeo."

Jacob huffed and pushed the chair he'd been using a barre into the corner. "Fine," he said. "Try."

"Alright," I said. "The balcony scene. Just try and imagine that you've just fallen in love with Juliet and you're really happy about it."

"So smile?" he said, getting into position.

"Guess that's a start," I muttered and turned on the music.

He began, running on and looking up at where I would usually be standing.

"You're meant to be looking hopeful," I said, walking round to watch him. "You want her to be there."

"The audience can't see my face," he put his hand to his chest like the choreography instructed.

"That doesn't matter," I said. "It's not about them – it's just about feeling it. If you break out of the emotion once, it's so hard to get it back."

He kept dancing. It was silly of me to mention emotion, since he really hadn't had any from the beginning, facing the front or not. "Just smile," I told him. He purposefully made it as sarcastic as possible. "At least try, Jacob!"

"You sound like Helen," he breathed, setting off on a long series of jetes and turns.

Watching him made me dizzy. I shut my eyes then opened them, but the room still seemed to spin…

But my entrance was close. Swallowing, I went to my starting position.

"And now you're just not going to reply?" Jacob snapped. I couldn't quite understand his words. "What a great teacher."

As the violins sounded my entrance, the world went black and I fell to the ground.

"_What the Hell have you done?"_

"_She fainted. All by herself. Not my fault."_

"_Jesus, you are a fucking idiot, Jake. Bella…" _I felt warm hands on my head, lifting it onto something…someone's lap. _"Bella, wake up."_

"_Just give her some time. She was just being a drama queen."_

"_Do you not care at all?"_

"_She's my partner, you prat."_

"_You don't treat her like one. Bella, come on." _Fingers brushed my cheek. _"Wake up."_

"_I don't see how this is any of your business."_

"_Most things you do end up being my business because that's what you want. If she doesn't wake up in the next minute, I'm getting Carlisle."_

"_Glad to see I'm pushing your buttons."_

"_And that is not a good idea, Jake. I always win, just like I won two years ago."_

"_Not this time."_

"What…" I murmured.

"Bella," Edward's voice sighed with relief.

I slowly opened my eyes and looked up into his. "Edward…"

His lips curved in a smile, his green eyes shining. He seemed to take up my whole vision with that perfect face.

I blinked and looked around. I was in a conference room, I thought…

_Chicago. The performance. Tonight._

"Oh God," I pushed myself off of Edward and heaved myself up, using the table. "How long was I out for?" I sought out Jacob's face. "How much time have we lost?"

"About ten minutes," Jacob said, looking agitatedly at Edward.

"Bella," Edward's face came back into view. His hands gripped my shoulders, his eyes serious, "When was the last time you slept?"

I was thankful for his support – I was swaying rather spectacularly. "Doesn't matter." I bit my lip and stepped out of his hold, immediately reaching for a table, "We need to start rehearsing."

"Agreed," Jacob said. "Edward, leave."

Edward just shook his head, "Bella, you need to rest. And eat. Have you even had food since last night? Or slept?"

I gave him a look.

He stared at me incredulously, "Bella! You have got to take care of yourself or you won't just be fainting."

"Don't be so melodramatic," Jacob said dismissively. "She's just dedicated."

Edward's arm was round my waist before I could refuse, "Okay, come on."

"No," I muttered, swaying against his lean body.

"Bella, if you don't come with me right now, I will go and get Carlisle and your time as Juliet will be over."

I took in a shaky breath, looking up at him, "You wouldn't."

His look told me that he would. He really would.

"Fine," I snapped.

* * *

><p>So sorry for the abrupt ending but I don't think my brain will take another three hours of writing to finish the other half!<p>

I am now entering into exam time, so please no more comments about me having a 'duty' to my readers to update every five minutes (you're awesome, of course, but I do have other things to contend with).

**Really hope you enjoyed! Please do review and tell me your thoughts!**

**Fingers crossed for a reasonably quick update! Thanks for reading!**


	36. Chapter 36

Hello!

Alright, this update is going to last two weeks and I swear I am not even going to think about ballet until after those two weeks are over!

Really hope you enjoy this one! It is very loooooong...

**Thanks so much to all who reviewed!**

**I love hearing your insights, so cheers!**

Can't wait to hear your opinions on this...

Hehe...

Alright! Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>Nessun Dorma - Pavarotti. Because there is no music like opera!<em>

_We Are Golden - Raphael Lake (Anyone else been watching Reign? I am addicted!)_

_By the Grace of God - Katy Perry_

* * *

><p>"We need to rehearse!" Jacob exclaimed as Edward led me to the door.<p>

"Just keep doing what I told you," I said.

"Right," he muttered.

And then Edward was ushering me out the door, keeping a hand on my back to steady me, though his eyes seemed distant. Cold, almost.

"You're going to regret this," I said to him as we walked through the red carpeted corridor to the elevators.

"When did you get to be like this?" he murmured as the doors opened. "You're running yourself into the ground."

"I'm trying to save myself from becoming an understudy, like you," I replied, stumbling into the elevator. Edward caught me from behind. A shiver ran up my spine as I felt the line of his body against mine, warm and strong and familiar. But he let go as soon as I had my balance. "As for the when," I muttered shakily, sinking into the corner of the elevator, "Probably around the time when I found you and Tanya making out in your room." I looked up at him through tired eyes, "It doesn't exactly help one's self-confidence to see her newly ex-boyfriend moving on that quickly."

I had tried to say it bitterly, but I realized the fight was leaving me. The past few hours' dancing had made me remember things beyond that last day, and now I just didn't know how to feel.

The doors opened with a ping. Edward didn't look at me as he waited for me to get out.

"Door's open!" came Alice's shout when Edward knocked. She was sitting on her bed with a needle and thread, fixing something on her Lady Capulet costume. "Oh," she said as Edward helped me in. "You found her! That was a really quick talk…"

"Talk?" I repeated, looking at my jailer.

"Which you clearly haven't had yet…" Alice trailed off, awkwardly biting her nail.

"Bella hasn't slept since the night before last," Edward told her, the frustration in his voice barely restrained. "So – "

"I'll go tell the cleaning service not to come up," she said immediately, jumping off her bed. She gave me a hug, "You poor thing."

"I'm fine," I muttered, even as she flew out the door.

"I wish you'd stop saying that," Edward said as I sat down on my bed. He leaned back against the wall by the door, his eyes being annoyingly concerned. "You're not."

"I'm sure you wish for a lot of things, Edward," I replied, untying my pointes and letting them drop to the ground. "But that doesn't mean you're going to get them. And I'm not going to sleep, if that's your next order."

Edward sighed, "Bella, if you don't sleep, you're not going to be able to perform tonight, regardless of whether I tell Carlisle or not."

"I _can't _sleep, Edward," I told him, a little desperation seeping into my voice.

He frowned, "Why not?"

I looked down at my pale hands, "I heard the teachers talking – tonight is most likely our last night. They're replacing us with you and Tanya."

He didn't react to that news, just said, "And you can't stop thinking of how to stop that."

I nodded dolefully, "Every time I close my eyes, I just start dancing in my head, trying to find some way of showing them I can be Juliet and Jacob can be Romeo."

Edward hesitated, seeming torn for a moment. But then he knelt down in front of me and gently took my hands in his own. I looked at him and he looked back, his eyes clear and unshielded. "You are Bella Swan," he said. "You were at _Force _and you still are now, even if things have changed." His thumb brushed across my knuckles, making my whole body feel warmer, "You will find a way to get what you want. To dance, just like you did at the Review."

"That involved a lot of rule breaking," I said. "And a snapped ankle."

Edward winced, "Bad way of describing it. But my point still stands – you will find a way. Just trust yourself."

"It's more about trusting Jacob," I murmured. "He doesn't exactly like change."

Edward gave an involuntary smile, "He's just as stubborn as you are." He slid his hands from mine and stood back up, seeming to need the distance it put between us.

"Oh I know," I said, remembering how it was only yesterday that I'd tried to get him not to say Edward's name. What a failure that had been. And this morning…he was never going to really try my way.

He nodded, "I guess the thing about Jacob is that he is so stubborn and decisive that you can't change him by telling him you're going to – he deliberately won't let you. Somehow, you have to find a different way to make him want to change. Something more subtle."

I eyed Edward, "You know him very well, don't you?"

"I knew him very well," he corrected.

"Tell me about him," I said, then quickly added, "I know you can't tell me about NFSI. But before that – when you were training together under Monsieur Repin."

"If you get into bed," Edward bartered. "Then I will tell you."

"Yes, Dad," I said, giving him the evils as I pushed my feet under the covers and lay back. This bed did seem remarkably comfortable…

Edward pulled the comforter up over me, "I don't think you could call some of my previous actions 'fatherly'."

"Like when you gave Lauren a massive lecture in front of the whole class in my defence? Or when you put me to bed just like this the other night when I was drunk?"

Edward looked away, his eyes narrowing, "I was more thinking about when we made out in the ballet studio when you got back…" his gaze returned to me, and I couldn't quite look away, transfixed. I remembered that. And I remembered how he had kissed me last night. And how much I had wanted, _needed _to kiss him back…

Edward cleared his throat, pushing his fingers through his hair again, "Jacob."

"Right," I breathed.

I stupidly wanted him to sit on the bed, like he had done before opening night, but now he pulled up a chair, leaving space between us again. "We met when we were both five, at a ballet studio not far from here. I was very quiet – I was still coming to grips with losing my mother. Jacob was the total opposite – he was so full of energy that once the teacher had to pry his fingers off the barre because he was swinging off it like a trapeze artist."

I smiled, imagining a little monkey-faced Jacob playing up in front of the instructor.

"We were the only boys in a class of twenty girls," Edward said. "So it was impossible for us not to be brought together when disgusting girl germs were everywhere."

"Hey!" I exclaimed.

He smiled and continued, "Anyway, we became friends pretty quickly. He needed a friend and I needed a reason to keep coming to classes."

"You didn't like it?" I asked.

Edward shook his head, "My father forced me to go, in memory of my mother. And he put a lot of pressure on me to do well – still does." He gave me a look, reminding me of that horrible day when Mister Masen had demanded to see me dance. "But Jacob made things bearable. He was great, really – he could make the most boring of barre exercises fun. He made me enjoy ballet." Edward stretched out his legs, flexing his toes, "And then when I was eight, my father decided it was time for me to stop screwing around and actually get serious, so he sent me to Monsieur Repin. It was beyond awful. I was his only student and he was brutal – classes were three hours long and it wasn't just dance; it was weightlifting and running and stretching until I could hardly feel my body.

"I met Jacob one day on my way out of school – he was waiting for me by the gates. I told him how awful it was. How I wanted to stop ballet but my father wouldn't let me."

"That was cruel of him," I murmured.

Edward shook his head, "He's always felt guilt for my mother losing her career for him. Jacob tried to work out a way for me to come back to his studio – he wasn't exactly enjoying it without me, either. He even called my father's office at one point and demanded that he let me return. Of course, when none of that worked, he did the only thing he could think of and asked his parents to let him go to Monsieur Repin's with me." Edward looked at me, "He was a very good guy back then. Selfless.

"And so we took classes together. And Jacob…he actually enjoyed them. He enjoyed the challenge where I didn't. He liked that Monsieur Repin was male and treated him like a danseur, not just a little boy who was probably going to quit when the football season started. I never had that issue because my father had always put me in a suit and told me to act like a grown up.

"Still, I followed Jacob and kept going without protest. His enthusiasm was infectious so eventually I found myself getting satisfaction out of each push up and pirouette when they were done 'almost perfectly'. I began to get so attached to my reflection that I was even correcting myself in shop windows. Everything had to be as close to perfect as possible. We trained so hard. We were each other's inspiration – we were going to be the World's best danseurs and travel to amazing countries and be famous and dance with beautiful girls."

I screwed up my face, "You were eight!"

"Exactly," Edward said, his eyes shining. "Anyway, we stayed with Monsieur Repin for a long time. Jacob excelled – he was far, far better than me. Neither of us were really attending school when we reached our teens. All we seemed to do was dance. We were both way better than all the others in the state, but Jacob was best of our age group in the whole country. His technique was already like a professional dancer's."

"But you?" I asked, turning onto my side, balling the comforter up against my chin.

Edward absent-mindedly reached over and pushed a lock of hair from my face…but then he caught himself and retreated back into his seat, folding his arms tightly, "I did everything Monsieur Repin told me, and it did work. But Jacob was more dedicated – he got more than just satisfaction from the technique." His brow creased as he thought, "There was always a nagging idea in me that this wasn't enough. Jacob never seemed to get tired but I felt that idea slowly dragging me down, like nearly-flawless technique wasn't really enough to sustain me anymore."

Edward looked down, pale eyelids shading his expression, "I began to question whether ballet was what I really wanted to do. I had given up my whole education for it, and I still regret that. But then I found this video of my mother."

"Dancing?" I asked excitedly, sitting up.

He gave me jovial look, "You're meant to be falling asleep, Miss Swan." I looked at him stubbornly but still lay back down. He smiled at me, his eyes twinkling, "But yes, her audition tape for the US Ballet. It changed everything for me, Bella – to see the way she danced, with the passion she managed to squeeze into every movement. The emotion.

"And then once I tried it, I could never go back to dancing the way Jacob did. I tried to talk to him and show him but he just didn't understand."

No wonder Jacob hadn't wanted to give me a chance – Edward had already tried years ago to get him to dance differently.

"I stayed a while longer with Jacob and Monsieur Repin," he continued. "But it was impossible to work with them when our styles were so different. So I got a special admission into the Joffrey and met Emmett, who was boarding there before he was old enough to attend _Force. _Jake and I still stayed best friends, though he had very little time to see me now that we weren't dancing together. Then Emmett and I went to the _Force _summer intensive and I met Carlisle, who understood everything that I was trying to get through in my dancing, and that was it. I went to _Force. _Monsieur Repin broke his hip and Jacob reluctantly ended up going to Aro's because they offered him a scholarship when Carlisle didn't."

"Why not?" I asked. "If he was the best?"

"You know Carlisle," said Edward. "He has an unconventional set of values for entrance into _Force."_

"Like a seventeen year old who had only been dancing for a few years?" I murmured. "Though I guess the board didn't quite share those values when they refused me a scholarship."

"They made a mistake," Edward said abruptly. "Carlisle's told me since that he wishes he'd just gone against them or paid for you himself."

"That would be ridiculous," I said, embarrassed. "And totally unprofessional – "

"But you would have stayed," Edward said quietly.

I took a deep breath, "So did you and Jacob stay friends after changing schools?"

Edward hesitated, still thinking of the previous subject, and then finally nodded, "We did. Not as close as we once had been, but I tried to spend time with him at competitions." Edward looked at me, "But that's the thing about this way of dancing, Bella – it leaves you no time for anything else. To be with your friends or relax or eat or sleep."

It was ironic, really, that I had probably fainted from dancing with my old technique as much as I had from dancing with Monsieur Repin's, but I didn't tell him that I was trying to go back. I didn't want him to…to get false hope. Because, despite the morning's efforts, my dance still wasn't what it was.

"Bella?" Edward said. I realized I had been staring off into the distance. Blinking, I refocused my gaze. Edward smiled, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be lecturing you."

"Ah!" I exclaimed. "He finally admits it!"

He gave me a look, "You still need to sleep."

"I'm still not convinced I can."

"Close your eyes," he said softly. That torn look had returned to him, as though something was bringing him pain. I obliged, the world turning a mottled black. And then, ever so gently, I felt his lips touch my forehead. Warmth flowed through me. His hands, long and familiar, rested on either side of my face. His warm breath fanned my mouth for a moment. My heartbeat spiked…

…but then his touch was gone, and my weary mind gratefully crept into the darkness of sleep.

\*\*/*/

"Sleeping Beauty wakes!" I heard Alice announce as my eyes fluttered open.

"Actually," came a Russian voice. "She looks pale. And her makeup is awful."

"Ugh," I groaned, sitting up. "Thanks."

Rosalie was lying on Alice's bed, painting her nails a blood red, whilst Alice sat in a chair next to me with a newspaper on her lap. "Hey," she said with a kind smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," I murmured, rubbing my eyes. My head throbbed with pain. "Got any Tylenol?"

"Sure," Alice said, popping the newspaper down and heading into the bathroom.

I blinked at the photo on the page it was turned to. It looked like Jacob and me…

I picked it up, annoyed at how even my fingers felt weak. It was us – a picture of one of the Balcony Scene lifts. Jacob was holding me above him, looking determinedly ahead, the stage lights reflecting off the sweat on his brow. And there was I, in a perfect arabesque, one leg up at one-twenty degrees, my fingers reaching out in front of me, head tilted back in the same angle. But I looked like Jacob – so determined. So driven. Like I was going to get this arabesque right if it was the last thing I did. We looked harsh. Ugly.

"I wouldn't read it," Alice said, handing me the Tylenol and a glass of water. I rested the paper on my lap. "It's not exactly a fair review."

"Oh I'm sure it's fair on me and Jacob," I said, downing the drugs in one.

"I thought you were in love with yourselves?" Rosalie said, wriggling her wet toes.

I didn't say anything, just stared at the photo some more. Why hadn't I realized sooner that something had to actually change for an audience to like us? We might not have been in this predicament if I had just thought logically and not been so proud.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" Alice called. It Emmett and Jasper, both dressed in leather jackets and jeans.

"Ready to be nosy tourists?" Emmett asked, striding in. He saw me lying in my bed, "And how is the invalid?"

"You don't have to be nice to me," I murmured. "I probably don't deserve it."

Emmett shrugged, "Sounds like you've been through enough torture already." He gave me a once over, "Looks like it too."

"Hey!" I complained. "Why is everyone saying that?"

"Because you look like a malnourished ghost," Rosalie said simply, screwing the lid back onto her nail polish and letting Emmett pull her up. "Are we going?"

"I think I should stay," Alice said apologetically. "Invalid and all."

"I'll be fine," I said, ignoring Edward's words from earlier on that particular phrase. "Go, really."

She looked undecided, but Rosalie rolled her eyes and dropped Alice's jacket onto her lap, "She wasn't looking after you when you needed it – you don't need to return the favour."

"Rosalina," Jasper reprimanded. "Let bygones be bygones."

"Americans have annoying sayings," she muttered. "Come on. We're going to miss the big shiny jelly bean thing."

"Are you sure?" Alice asked me.

I nodded, trying to give her a reassuring smile when all I felt was an aching, painful guilt. _"I'm sorry that holding people back is all you can do because you're too short to really make a career out of this." _I had actually said that to her. How could she even look me in the eye? How could any of them?

But still, Jasper wished me a "get well soon" as they all moved out, slinging his arm around Alice's shoulders.

I sat for a moment once the door had clicked shut and tried not to drown in all the emotions and pain that had come back to me overnight. Some of the things I had done had been shameful. And treating Alice and Angela the way I had – that had been the worst. They were my two greatest friends and I had pushed them away without even caring about how much I had hurt them. And then there was Gerry – threatening him about such a private, personal secret. And Lauren, with everything she had been through. And just…the way I had treated everyone. Even Carlisle.

There was another knock on the door and Edward slipped in, "Alice said you were up."

I brushed away the tear that had been making its way down my cheek and said blankly, "I've been a bitch."

"With good reason," Edward answered after a pause.

"That's debatable," I muttered and got up. I felt a little more balanced as I went to my suitcase and pulled on my _Collaianni _sweater.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To rehearse," I said, picking up my pointes. "And I know you don't want me to, but I have to or I really won't have a chance tonight."

Edward sighed, leaning back against the wall, "Are you hungry?"

My stomach seemed to rumble on cue. I paused as my body reminded me that the last food it had seen had been violently thrown up again. "A little," I admitted sheepishly.

"Then at least let me get you lunch," Edward said.

"Are you going to lecture me?" I asked.

He shook his head, "I promise not to."

I huffed and exchanged my pointes for my converse. "I don't know why I'm letting you babysit me."

"Because some part of you knows what's good for you," Edward said, holding the door open for me.

"I think we've established that you're not good for me."

This reduced Edward to silence once more. I noticed he was staying a little further away from me as we walked, his hands in his pockets. He was…tense. Not the kind of tense he got when he was around Jacob, or how his muscles had gotten taut with emotion last night as he had danced with me. No, this was a kind of nervous tension.

"Are you okay?" I asked as we went down the corridor. I never thought I'd ask that question of Edward again…

He raised his eyebrows at me, "I'm not the one who's hardly slept or eaten for twenty four hours."

We reached the elevator. I pressed the button but Edward was already moving toward the stairs, "Come on," he said. "You should stretch your legs."

I frowned and followed, "I think my legs have had a pretty good stretch over the past few months, Edward."

"Then mine haven't," he replied as we went down the blandly-coloured stairwell. "Unless you count rubbing up to sponsors as a sport."

"Jacob wasn't happy about that."

"I saw you on opening night," said Edward. "After the show."

"You were definitely stealing his thunder," I told him, then rethought, "Well, whatever thunder we were meant to have."

It was a warm day outside. The traffic of Chicago rolled by, sunlight glinting of the roofs. Edward and I walked in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, exactly, but the tension in him hadn't let down and I was beginning to feel it in my own body – the remnants of our old connection, I guessed.

We walked down the street

I fiddled with the cuffs of my sweater, "So you know Chicago well?"

Edward nodded, "Very well. I love it. The culture and the city – all the sky scrapers and theatres and parks."

"Forks has a pretty big school gymnasium," I informed him.

He laughed, seeming relaxed for a moment, "Forks sounds nice."

"It rains a lot," I said. "And our only theatre doesn't have dressing rooms so we always used to have to run through the rain in our tutus from the changing tent to the stage door."

"Alice would be horrified," Edward replied with a grin. We took a right, walking along a wide, busy avenue. I saw the spray of a huge fountain beyond the cars and busses.

It turned out to be the Buckingham Fountain as we got closer. It was a huge, with three massive circular tiers of golden jets, water cascading from all of them. Bronze sea creatures were frozen in the clear blue pool. It was spectacular.

Edward was looking up at it with a fondness in his eyes. "Beautiful," I said.

"My Mom used to take me here," he told me, gazing at the glittering water. "She got this temporary job at the Harris Theatre as a receptionist and this is we'd come here to escape."

"She didn't start dancing again?" I asked as we turned away from the fountain and headed for a little coffee house on the corner of the square.

Edward shook his head, "She had me to look after and besides, the US Ballet wouldn't let her back in after the scandal." Mr Masen had been a patron to the US Ballet and Edward's mother had just been a corps dancer when she'd gotten pregnant with him.

We sat outside the café, looking out on the fountain and the green park beyond it. Tourists milled around, snapping photos and enjoying the sun.

I hardly felt like I could eat, but as soon as the food came, I was shovelling it down at a very unladylike rate.

"I think I win this argument," Edward said smugly, taking a sip of his coffee. He hadn't touched the muffin he'd ordered.

I rolled my eyes, "I'm sure you have better things to do than look after me. You should really be rehearsing for Swan Lake."

Edward looked down, tracing the rim of his coffee cup. He always used to do that back at _Force _– I remembered the handful of awkward mealtimes at the Third Year table when I'd thought he'd hated me. "You might be the toughest person in the World, but even you need looking after sometimes."

I gazed at him, realizing he was avoiding something, "But Swan Lake? Isn't the Royal Ballet going to want you fully memorised and all that?"

"It's good enough," he replied, still not looking at me. Abruptly, he sat up straighter, putting a smile on his face, "Anyway, there are far more important things to be done." He began fishing around in his pocket, "I am sorry there is only one, but it's part of some ridiculous costume Alice is constructing and she'd only give me one."

"What are you doing?" I asked, as he pulled a lighter and a candle out of his pocket.

"Multiply it by eighteen," he said, putting the candle in the middle of the muffin and lighting it.

He looked at me with a grin as he pushed the plate across to me, that light in his emerald eyes which made it impossible to not like him…to not love him. "Happy Birthday, Bella."

"It's my birthday?" I said pathetically, a smile slowly creeping to my lips. I laughed, blowing out the candle before even thinking about a wish – I would save it for later.

Across the table, Edward smiled at me but there seemed to be some distance there…like he wasn't quite in the moment. "Thank you," I said sincerely, unthinkingly putting my hand on his. He didn't move, just staring at me. I saw his chest rise and fall, his eyes frozen on me. "Edward?"

He swallowed and pulled his hand out from under mine, his brow creasing as he looked down, "I'm sorry."

"What is it?" I asked, already chastising myself for touching him.

"We shouldn't do this now," he murmured. "You're tired and practically ill and you have to dance tonight…"

"Alice said something about us having a talk," I said. "Is…is this it?"

"Not now."

"Now," I said sternly. "Because otherwise I will be distracted by it anyway."

Edward looked at me in the sunlight, "I doubt it'll make you less distracted."

"Edward…"

He sighed, pushing a hand through his hair, "Alright. Just know that I don't think this is honourable or right in any way. After what I have put you through, I shouldn't be the one asking things of you, ever."

"What is it?" I said, my nervousness growing.

Edward shut his eyes, that crease still in his brow. He took a deep breath and looked at me, his eyes resolute, "I can't do this anymore, Bella." I saw his hand ball into a fist on the table, but he kept going, "I can't stay here and watch you dance with Jacob and be with him anymore. I can't bear to see you with anyone but me, Bella."

He stole the breath from my lungs. I bit my lip as Edward put a hand to his forehead, "But more than that, Bella, I can't bear to see the pain that I bring you just by being here. I don't want to hurt you any more than I have, and yet I seem to do it on a daily basis. I see how I distract you. I see the anger that I provoke in you and I know that it's justified. You asked Helen to stop me from coming to opening night and I completely understand why – I have hurt you too much." He looked at me, "I don't want to hurt you anymore. You deserve better."

"Edward…" I trailed off, not knowing what to say. He was right – he did distract me and bring me pain and make me feel so…lost.

Edward went on, his voice racked with pain, "But I need to tell you, Bella, that I didn't mean for anything to happen the way it did. I know my reasons make no difference to what I did that day you left, but if you will let me tell you, I will – "

"Tell me," I whispered. The sun was warm on my back but all I felt was chilling cold. The cold of that winter's day.

Edward leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on the table, his hands clasped. "When I found out that you were going to Aro's – that you hadn't told me – I was wounded. Everything I said to you outside on the terrace was true. I was hurt that you didn't tell me – that you didn't have enough faith in us to just tell me and let us sort it out together. I forgot, Bella. I forgot for a moment what we had beyond faith. I forgot about the way we danced together and the way I felt when I was around you."

"That's because it was gone," I murmured, looking down.

"No," he said strongly, making me look up. "It wasn't gone. You didn't have faith because of what had happened in the past – because of those pas de deux classes and all the other awful things I put you through. You didn't have faith because I was so…" he exhaled frustratedly, trying to find words. "I was so _above _you, in year group and experience and I never made you feel like it was okay to dance at your own level."

Only yesterday, I would have thought his words condescending, but I knew what he meant and that it was true. "But it was also my fault," I said. "Even with the way Carlisle's rehearsals were working out, I shouldn't have lost faith in us."

"Still," Edward said. "Even if you had lost faith, our connection wasn't gone, Bella. If it had gone then I wouldn't have felt the pain that I felt. It was impossible to think. I was just so furious and hurt and some part of me just wanted to shake some sense into you and make you understand how much I cared. I think it wasn't just the betrayal, Bella. It was that you were leaving and I wasn't going to see you again and I couldn't face that…so I left you and went upstairs to be alone."

"And Tanya came," I muttered, looking down at my bitten nails.

He nodded, "I was so blindly enraged, Bella. I truly wasn't thinking. She just came in and…" he swallowed tightly, "And she kissed me and I kissed her back."

"So it wasn't a mistake," I whispered, telling myself not to cry. "She didn't just…just come in two seconds before me and throw herself on you."

"It wasn't long, Bella," Edward said desperately. "Even though that makes no difference to what I did. But I wasn't thinking. I hardly knew it was Tanya…all I knew was the pain I was feeling and…how much I wanted to kiss you until all of that pain faded away."

"That's ridiculous," I snapped.

"I know," he said straight away. "Bella, I can't explain it properly. It was like I needed to get my emotion out and she was just there. So all the pain and the need and everything…just condensed into that kiss."

I was silent for a while, watching the tourists and passers-by. A little girl was spinning around and around in front of the fountain as her mother took photos of her. She was in a fairy costume. _To be that carefree… _But then she fell over, scraping her knee. She let out a tremendous wail. Her mother patiently went over and calmed her.

"Would you have stopped?" I asked eventually, still watching the little girl as she perked up again at whatever her mom had promised her. "If I hadn't come in, would you have stopped?"

"Yes," Edward said quietly, following my gaze. "I'm not just saying it in hindsight – as soon as I realized what I was actually doing, I pulled away."

"You pulled away because your ex-girlfriend turned up!" I exclaimed, turning back to him.

He opened his mouth to reply, but ended up just nodding, "There is no excuse for what I did. Just know that I regret it, Bella. It brings me so much shame that sometimes I can hardly think of anything other than how I ruined everything through one ridiculous outburst of emotion and stupidity." He looked at me directly, his eyes as clear and shamed as anyone's ever could be, "I regret what I did, Bella. And I would never do it again, for all that it's worth."

"I know," I said, looking into those eyes and trying not to let his pain hurt me. Silence grew between us, until I eventually broke my gaze, looking back to the little girl, who was now posing again – a little more carefully this time. "So," I said. "I guess you didn't sleep with her, then?"

"What?" Edward said incredulously. I glanced back at him to see his shocked stare, "No, Bella. God, no."

"She called me," I said. "When I was on the bus home. She used your phone and she told me she was in your bed and that you had taken that photo of us away."

Edward pushed his hand through his hair, sighing, "Well that was all probably true, knowing Tanya."

"Seriously?"

He looked at me with a tired smile, "Bella, I did not sleep a wink that night. Tanya refused to leave and so I left – I went to our old studio, where we danced _Clair de Lune _after the Review. I was so sick with myself that I couldn't even dance. I wouldn't let myself. I didn't have any right to let out those emotions inside of me. I sat there and I didn't leave until morning." Edward gave me a mild look, "Of course, it turned out to have been the most dangerous studio to choose, since it was my own class in there the next morning and Alice almost broke my jaw with the force of her slap."

I gave an involuntary smile, "Good."

Edward reached into the breast pocket of his jacket, pulling out a folded piece of card and handed it to me.

I unfolded it. It was the photo – the photo of us kissing in the studio. Our bodies were as close together as possible, partially silhouetted by the sunlight coming through the lace curtains. His arm was tight around my waist, his free hand in my hair. I was on my tiptoes – my normal, human tiptoes – kissing him back with all the passion I had to give.

"I would never have thrown that away," Edward said softly. "But it's yours to do what you want with now."

I looked up at him, confused, "What do you mean?"

"The Royal Ballet are demanding an answer from me, Bella," he said quietly.

I stared at him, "You – you haven't signed the contract?"

He shook his head, "I have been trying to waylay them but they want an answer by tomorrow."

"Well, what are you waiting for?" I asked, even though I knew the answer perfectly well.

Edward gazed at me, "Do you know why I got offered this role, Bella?"

"Because you're the best danseur in America," I said, feeling almost angry at him – what was he _doing? _It was the Royal Ballet!

But he just looked at me, that crease in his brow again, "There was an ex-artistic director in the audience of the Review, Bella."

I paused in my fury, "But…you only danced for three minutes and it was completely made up."

"But it was the best I've ever danced," he said. "It was almost eighteen years of work, coupled with you. _You, _Bella. They chose me because when I danced with you, you made me show every ounce of emotion and passion I possessed at that moment. And you just gave me so much to feel, Bella. The excitement and the happiness and the _love _I felt that night is unattainable, impossible to find anywhere but with you. I have never danced so well."

"It wasn't me," I said weakly. "I've seen you dance like that before, Edward. You don't need me – "

"But I do," he said adamantly. "You saw me the other night, in the studio. You said yourself that something was missing. Bella, without you in my life there is something I can't reach. They saw me dancing with every ounce of my being and now I cannot give them that." He had spoken imploringly, but now he seemed to lose his energy, looking at me wearily, "I am not what I was now that you're gone from me. I can't dance about the happiness of being in love when I hurt the girl who was in love with me beyond repair."

"That doesn't mean you can't go," I whispered. "Even without…that…you're still a phenomenal dancer, Edward. You would still be welcomed there."

"I know," he murmured. "But I don't know that I would want to be there, Bella."

"What alternative do you have?" I asked him desperately.

He looked at me with those eyes again, "You know what alternative I have."

"Edward," I said pathetically. "I can't…you know that whatever we had is gone – "

"Don't say that," he interrupted me sharply. "Don't say that when you know it's not true. I know you felt it last night, Bella – when we danced together, it was still there, as strong as ever."

Last night flooded into my mind again. That last scene…it had been the most intense thing I had felt in a long time…and that kiss. God, I had wanted him to kiss me and I had wanted to kiss him back. I had wanted to wrap my arms around his shoulders and feel his heartbeat against mine because that was how it was meant to be, according to some part of my mind.

And yet now he sat across from me and the distance felt like miles.

"So what are you trying to say?" I asked quietly, looking at his face in the sunlight.

Edward looked down, taking a deep breath, "I can't stay here anymore – I can't add more pain to your life and I can't bear to add more to mine, despite what I deserve." His green eyes met mine, "If there is no way for you to forgive me for what I've done and be with me again – ff you will be happier without me, then I will leave on the next flight to London and I will never bother you again."

I swallowed. _Don't cry._

"But," he continued quietly. "If you want me to stay, then I will."

"You're giving me an ultimatum," I whispered.

He nodded solemnly, "I know it is unfair for me to ask you to make this choice. But I will respect your decision, whatever it turns out to be."

"You promise?" I said.

"I promise," Edward said, his face sincere and grave.

"How long do I have?" My voice sounded blank, even though my muted heart was bursting with emotion.

"I need to give them my answer by the end of tonight."

I nodded and pushed back my chair, standing up. "We should go," I murmured. "We'll be late for class."

I didn't bother to protest as Edward paid. We walked back in silence, leaving the glorious fountain behind us.

* * *

><p>An ultimatum...<p>

What should Bella choose? What should she be considering? What do you think of Jacob pre-Aro's? And do you forgive Edward, or does he still deserve a clobbering with a very big baseball bat?

**Please review and share your thoughts! Can't wait to hear them!**

**And to the suspicious number of people wanting TL updates, thanks so much for your support! I promise that I am going to have a huge blitz on Tudor London and The Short Sugar Plum Fairy in December!**

**Thanks for reading, all! **


	37. Chapter 37

oHello!

Ugh, exams...they hurt. If you're in them right now, I hope they're going better than mine. NCEA suddenly stopped being predictable. Damn.

I also hope all in Canterbury and enjoying the aftershocks :)

**Thanks so much for all your reviews! Honestly, I find them so interesting to read. Poor Jacob! He would be so hurt!**

**But really, thanks so much - you have made me smile in the month of Hell!**

Do hope you enjoy this one!

And please review!

* * *

><p><em>The Last Time - Taylor Swift<em>

_Ombra mai Fu - Handel (think the version I listened to was sung by Fiona Campbell)_

_The Edge of Night - Howard Shore (because LOTR is awesome)_

_How Long Will I Love You - From About Time, which is so good that I have seen it in two different countries! Go and watch it - it has such a great message!_

* * *

><p>We didn't speak on the way back to the hotel, apart from a quick apology from Edward when his father called to plan some kind of meeting with him – I got the impression that Anthony Masen scheduled everything, including his son's life.<p>

The traffic of midday Chicago beat against my ears, the sun warm on my face. Business people and tourists walked by, talking on their phone or taking photos. The huge skyscrapers towered up above me. And yet I didn't notice any of it. It was all Edward. Edward, his hands in his jacket pockets, his gaze set forward, walking beside me with his graceful stride, smelling like he always did – of deodorant and Edward. His arm occasionally brushed against mine as we walked down the busy street. I tried to not let myself react. Because there was a growing part of me that just wanted to step in front of him right now and tell him that he had to stay. That there was no way he could leave. That I would leave Jacob and be with him.

But that was hardly a thought-through idea. I couldn't just leave Jacob, after all he had done for me. And I couldn't just promise Edward I could be with him when I would hopefully still be dancing lead with Jacob every night. I didn't even know if that was what I wanted. I didn't even know if I could forgive him.

"_I can't bear to see you with anyone but me."_

The memory of his words sent another shiver up my spine. There was something so dangerously enticing in that.

My hand still clutched the photo of us.

"Thank you for lunch," I said as we reached the hotel lobby. "And for remembering my birthday."

Edward gave a one-sided smile, his gaze holding mine for a little longer than was necessary. I could see him trying to decipher what I was thinking. Hastily, I looked away, going to the elevator and pressing the button.

"I'll see you in class," Edward murmured, and made for the stairs.

The doors pinged open and I stepped in, finally alone. I slumped against the mirrored elevator wall, feeling like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. What was I meant to do? How could I make this decision? How could I decide Edward's life for him?

"Hey," Alice said as I tiredly entered our room. She was packing her dance bag, already dressed in a navy blue short-sleeved leotard with white trim – kind of like a vintage sailor's uniform.

"How was the jelly bean thing?" I heard myself ask.

She gave me a smile, "Big and shiny. Where have you been?"

"Lunch with Edward." I picked at my nails and then abruptly decided to get ready, almost ripping my leotard as I yanked it out of my suitcase.

"Oh," Alice said simply. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really," I replied, busily pulling my tights on.

"Right," she said in that accepting way. I didn't deserve that from her. I didn't deserve any of Alice's kindness.

When Jasper knocked on the door for them to leave, I told her to go ahead. I left a few minutes later and went down to the conference room. Jacob was still there, dancing through his opening variation. The back and front of his t-shirt had turned darker with sweat. His eyes didn't see me as he leapt high into the air, beating his calves together and then landing back in arabesque. It was a glorious move. But, then, he was an amazing dancer. He went on, his back leg sweeping forward in another jump, his arms changing position, one in a curve above his head, the other out to the side. The muscles in his arms stood out as he moved, finding their position with such confidence.

But nothing had changed since this morning. He was still dancing as he had always done.

"Jacob," I said quietly. He finished his series of assemblés, ending with one foot pointed behind him, his arm stretched out in front of him. He was a beautiful statue.

The music finished and he dropped his arm and went to get water from his bag. "Have fun with Edward?" he asked me sarcastically, wiping sweat from his brow.

"I'm going to go to class with the rest of the company," I told him, ignoring how he turned his back to me. "And I think you should too."

"I'm rehearsing."

"It's not going to make a difference. You know that, Jacob." I folded my arms over my chest, "We need to turn up to class so they don't forget us and just replace us there and then." I didn't bother to mention that Carlisle might not even have the option of Edward by the end of the night.

"We haven't being going to class for the past ten classes."

I gave an exasperated sigh and walked up to where he stood, "Well maybe that's part of the issue."

Jacob turned around, finally looking at me with those brown eyes. It was like I was seeing them for the first time. I saw the stubbornness there – the very stubbornness Edward had described. But I also saw a weariness which I had never noticed before. Maybe Edward thought that Jacob could live off rehearsing and technique and coffee, but I saw now that that wasn't possible. He was wearing himself out. Helen's attack on us had drained us both, but this was something different – like he had been pushing for years and years to just be that much closer to perfect and still not be anywhere. He was still losing.

"You can change," I whispered, sympathy now seeping into my words. "You don't have to keep going on like this."

Jacob didn't reply. He wasn't going to acknowledge anything I said. So I picked up my bag and left.

\*\*/*/

The Royals were all sitting at the back of the stage when I arrived at the Civic Opera House. The curtains were shut, not allowing me to see the thousands of seats, but the stage itself was massive, anyway, spanning a huge distance out either side, with the lights high above. How would I even know which wing to come out of?

"Bella!" Bridget called, waving her hand as I made my way through the other dancers towards them, carefully not looking to where Edward sat with Alice and Jasper. The Royals were lounging in a circle, all in their scarlet leotards and t-shirts.

Adela looked at me confusedly, "What are you doing here?"

"Figured I'd take class for once," I said.

Robbie laughed, "First warm up, now this? You're losing you're exclusivity!"

I smiled, though it didn't quite feel right, "Well, I haven't really seen any of you since – "

"Since before NFSI started?" Danny finished for me, though that wasn't quite how I was going to put it.

"I'm sorry," I sighed, unzipping my pointe shoe bag. I felt like I was going to be apologising to lots of people over the next few days. I looked up, frowning, "Where's Gerry?" Usually there would have been some kind of witty and rude comment on my absences by now.

Everyone looked away awkwardly, though Danny gave it away by her glance at Seth. I was about to ask when Carlisle came on, clapping his hands. "Alright! Everyone to the barre, _s'il vous plait."_

"Seth had a huge spaz at Gerry last night," Bridget whispered in my ear as we tried to find a spot at the barre. "About the whole crush thing."

"He seemed okay this morning," I said, but then he had looked rather tired…

"Seth can be a serious ass sometimes," Bridget muttered. We found a place halfway down the middle barre. Across from us, near the front, Edward was performing tendus – pointing his toes to the front and then sweeping back in and then the side and back, all with practised agility. Through his white t-shirt, I could see the muscles in his back bunch and then release as his left arm glided from first position to second.

"Enough chatter!" Carlisle called. He was standing at the edge of the stage in a white shirt and formal trousers. The man definitely had style. "Let us begin."

We began with plies, the whole company gracefully lowering down, one hand on the barre, the other flowing from the side to overhead as we reached our lowest points. An old piano had been wheeled onstage and one of the repetiteurs of the NFSI was playing. Edward and I rose at the same exact moment, as the music reached cadence point. "Into a back bend!" Carlisle called, striding between the rows. I arched my back until I was staring up at the rows and rows of stage lights, all chained and bolted to a massive network of metal scaffolding. I could feel everything stretch as I breathed – the satisfying pull of my body.

We went on, into tendues and releves, and then frappes and battements, all building up in movement and speed. For the first time in a long time, I considered just how much I had improved.

As a First Year at _Force, _I had struggled through everything. I could hardly keep up with people three years younger than me. My turn out was bad, my endurance was awful. All those rehearsals with Carlisle and Edward, when I could not keep up – when I just got completely lost and breathless. Now, I could rehearse that same scene five times and still go for a sixth, regardless of how much my legs might ache. I had become stronger and tougher – more flexible, more consistent, more agile. I knew my body from head to the bruised, blistered tips of my toes.

And it was all thanks to Jacob. My first two weeks at Aro's were now a distant memory. The hurt from Edward's betrayal had still been so raw that everything seemed hopeless, including my dancing. Until Jacob had come in on his motorbike, in that ridiculous stunt through the corridors, and noticed me. He had picked me up and dusted me off when I was thinking of leaving ballet.

It was Jacob who had made me want to stay. Who had made me want to fight. And then he had taught me everything he knew. He had invested so much in me. He had cared about me. He had believed in me when no one else did. Even Edward, before things had ended, had not had the faith Jacob had in me. He hadn't taken the time to help me like Jacob had.

Jacob had been my saviour. He had made me what I was, even if now I wanted to go back.

"Bella, they're putting the barres away," Bridget told me. I realized I'd completely zoned out – barre was over.

"Right," I said and followed her to the back of the stage.

Carlisle clapped his hands to get everyone's attention again, "Okay, first combination, ladies and gentlemen! We are still seeing issues with the peasant dances – the corps parts are still getting a little butchered, oui?"

Everyone around me laughed. I had clearly missed some kind of an in joke…

"So," Carlisle continued. "We're going to just go over those jumps individually and then work up to the series."

We began with groups of five crossing the stage, executing small jumps and then gradually getting to the bigger ones. I couldn't help but watch Edward as he stepped up between Jasper and Emmett to perform a set of grande jetes – great leaps from one corner of the stage to the other.

"Alright, boys," Carlisle said, folding his arms. "Let's see it."

Edward's eyes focused on the far corner, his chest rising as he took a breath and then stepped onto his right foot, bent his knee and took off, his legs almost at one-eighty as he cut through the air. It took my breath away. There was so much power in his body – so much confidence, just like Jacob. But there was something else about Edward, aside from his emotions, that set him apart from Jacob. That set him apart from all of us. He had a kind of ease with his body. As if dancing was just something he naturally did. Every movement was intense and powerful and yet it looked truly effortless. Jacob and I – we were both so obsessed with fixing what was wrong that dancing never exactly felt _right. _But even without that obsession, no one danced like Edward. No one looked as home in the middle of the most difficult move as Edward.

I watched as he finished his last jete with a fouette, perfectly turning on the ball of his foot, one leg back. When Jasper and Emmett and the other two finished abruptly, Edward lowered his leg back down with grace, his outstretched hand lingering a little before it fell to his side. His eyes finally lost that intense focus and turned light as he smiled at something Emmett was saying.

"Ugh, my calf is killing me," Danny muttered from beside me, shaking out her leg.

I gave her an absent minded smile and we set off on our turn of the jetes.

The class went on, and the more I watched Edward, the more I began to appreciate just how different he was to the others. He had everything. The technique and precision and ease and always, _always _that link to the music. He was perfect.

It reminded me of something Jasper had said last night; _"I wonder why he bothers going to Force. In Russia, he would already be a soloist with the Bolshoi, at least, not still hanging around with us students."_

He was right. Edward was too good for everyone here. He was on a different level from all of us. No wonder he taught so much at _Force _and then here – there was nothing else for him to learn from ordinary classes or rehearsals. I watched as he chatted to two of the younger USB guys between combinations, explaining something or other to them, and then demonstrated. They looked at him like he was a god.

_The same way I used to look at him, _I remembered, thinking back to my first few days at _Force, _when the whole school had been in an uproar because I had danced with the great Edward Masen. I remembered Angela and Violet telling me about him with such reverence. I guessed that I had forgotten that. After that very first dance, he had become something more personal and close than an all-powerful god. And then, for a while, Edward had been my boyfriend. And then he was my enemy. And now…now I seemed to have come full circle, albeit with a little more understanding.

Edward may have made mistakes – lots of mistakes, in fact; everything from ignoring me because I made him feel out of control to leaving Madame Wright to take that fateful class when Angela fell to kissing Tanya on that one, horrific night – but those mistakes had clouded my vision of who Edward really was. He was one of the World's best ballet dancers. He should have been on the stage of La Scala or the Bolshoi or the Palais Garnier. Or Covent Garden.

But it was more than 'should'. Edward had to go. He could not let me get in the way of his career.

And perhaps that was the final straw for me. The final realization that I was not _worth_ ruining Edward's career over. Edward may have made mistakes, but he never stood by them for long. He didn't justify them. But me? Since coming to Aro's, I had completely abandoned my injured and alone best friend, I had threatened to tell Gerry's very personal secret to everyone, I had said the cruellest, most horrible thing to Alice. I had spurned all the people who had shown me such warmth and loss on that final night at _Force – _Alice and Jasper and Emmett and even Rosalie, who had all stood out in the freezing cold and blessed me on my way. I had even disputed with Carlisle – perhaps one of the greatest dancers and _men _of all time. I had had so much respect for him at one point, and he had respected me. He had supported me through so much only to have me ignore his advice and ruin his ballet. And even amongst the Royals, I had thought myself too high above them to go to class or spend time with them or even help Gerry.

I had been a good person, once. Back at _Force. _But I was not that Bella Swan anymore, regardless of what Edward might have said earlier.

And I knew, deep, deep down, that I could not dance like I used to, either. There would always be a part of me that would be tainted by my experiences at Aro's and what had happened with Edward. This morning I had managed to dredge up as much of my old dancing as possible. It was there, undeniably, but it wasn't like it once had been. It could never be so carefree again. So innocent. The girl who found solace in _Wuthering Heights _and followed her heart into the most amazing, painful places…that just wasn't the person I was anymore.

Even if I did leave Jacob – even if, in some bizarre world, Edward and I got Romeo and Juliet, it would not be what Edward wanted. Oh, I could dance the desperation and pain of that last death scene with him. I could hold his hand on the long bus journeys and become friends with everyone again. I could kiss him – God, I could kiss Edward in a blink if it was possible. But it would not be how he remembered.

He was willing to stay in the US to be with that Bella. This was such an important opportunity – he could not give it up for anything less than her.

Class finished without warning – I realized I hadn't even done half the combinations because I'd been staring into space, thinking.

I sought out Edward. He was sitting with Jasper and Emmett, all of them taking off their shoes. Edward pushed a hand through his hair, looking around. For me, I guessed. As soon as he found my gaze, I looked away. I didn't want him to read me the way he always did.

When I finally looked back, Carlisle was talking to him, ushering him out through the wing. Perhaps he was demanding why the contract wasn't signed yet – that wouldn't surprise me.

Carlisle and Edward disappeared, and it was then that it hit me.

Suddenly, I had to get out. I had to leave. I left my pointe shoes on, grabbed my sweater and charged out through one of the wings, quickly finding my way into the backstage area. I saw the door to the stairs first, and went straight up. I needed air. I needed space.

Twenty flights later, I burst out onto the roof of the Civic to a huge gust of wind.

I went straight to the railing, letting it support me as I gasped for breath. The Civic building was shaped like a throne and I was only on the roof the seat – the three other sides towered up behind me, with more skyscrapers on the other side of the river, their polished glass windows glinting in the sunlight. Far below me, the Chicago river flowed gently by, with boats and tourist barges moving along through the blue water. Serenity when my mind was in a storm.

"I can't do this," I whispered to myself.

Oh, there were so many reasons for him to go and hardly any reasons for him to stay, but I couldn't bear for Edward to leave. My heart ached with unspeakable pain – he couldn't leave. I couldn't bear to be without him. Without Edward.

Ever since I had seen him dance on that first night at _Force, _my life had been inexplicably changed. Every emotion had felt sharper, every action more purposeful. Every day, he was there in my mind. Everything I had done was linked to him in some way. From my running on stage at the Review to my endless, ruthless rehearsals with Jacob – it had all been because Edward instilled something in me that made me want to do more than just be.

He was my inspiration. In everything.

How could I let him leave? I would never be as impassioned again. I would never as driven or as angry or as happy. He gave me so much. His face, his eyes, his words, his dancing…the knowledge that he was somewhere near. Whether he hated me or cared for me or thought I was a horrible person. Whether I thought the same of him – it didn't matter. So long as he was near. So long as there was the knowledge that I would see him again.

If he went to London, he would be gone forever. We would not cross paths again for many years, if at all.

But if he went to London, he would get the career he deserved. He would be free of me, when all I could give him was the memory of what I once was and the pain of seeing me with Jacob. Because I couldn't leave Jacob, either.

I put my head in my hands, feeling a weight so heavy on me, like a blanket of lead.

"Bella?" I didn't turn to the sound of Alice's voice. I heard her walk up beside me. She leaned against the railing, looking out across the city. "You okay?"

I absentmindedly pulled on the cuffs of my sweater, hiding my hands in the warmth of the fabric, even though it wasn't cold.

I cleared my throat, taking a deep breath so that the pain didn't stop me from speaking, "Did Edward tell you what he wanted to talk to me about?"

She shook her head, "I know it's private – you don't have to tell me."

I watched a little sailing boat go past, the crew looking moving around the deck to lower the mast before the bridge. I folded my arms tight against my body, "If the only way of being happy was by hurting two people you cared about, would you do it?"

Alice thought for a moment, squinting the afternoon sun. "It would depend," she said eventually. "If the hurt was temporary and the happiness was permanent then maybe I would…" she sighed, picking at the remnants of her red nails. "But I don't think it works like that. When you hurt people you care about, you just end up hurting yourself. If I knew I had brought those two people pain at my own benefit then I don't think I really would feel happy."

"Just mean," I murmured.

She nodded, "Which is hardly a cause for happiness." She looked at me, the wind flicking her fringe across her face, "But choices don't have to come down to that, Bella. Surely, there must be other options?"

I shook my head, a tear slipping down my cheek, "Not for this."

I quickly dashed it away. I wouldn't cry. I had cried too much.

"I have to find Edward," I whispered. Alice gave me a squeeze on the shoulder. "Thank you for your advice."

"Good luck," she replied.

When I got down to the theatre, the stage crew were rehearsing their scene changes and not many of the dancers were left. "Do you know where Edward is?" I asked one of the USB dancers, who was carrying around her headdress for the ballroom scene.

"Think he was with Carlisle, last," she said, looking at me kind of cautiously. "In the foyer."

I tried to give her a grateful smile, "Thanks."

I hardly looked beyond the vibrant red carpets of the theatre as I walked up the aisle to the exit. How was I meant to put it? God, one look in my eyes and he would know. He read me too well not to.

The foyer was beautiful – a long room of magnificent square columns and warm golden lights.

The ticket desk was empty and no one seemed to be around. But then I heard French coming from behind one of the columns.

"_Ma cherie, ne souriez pas. Il ira bien, j'en suis sûr." _I followed Carlisle's voice around. He was sitting on one of the benches by the door, his phone to his ear, his face in his hand, _"Oui, je sais mais il aussi..." _I cleared my throat, feeling rude. He looked up at me, surprised, _"Un moment, Esme. C'est Bella." _He left his phone on the bench and stood up.

"I – " this suddenly felt incredibly awkward. I swallowed and said, "I was wondering where Edward was? I need to – "

"He's at the hospital," Carlisle said quietly.

"What?" I breathed.

He sighed, putting a hand on his hip, "Monsieur Masen has had an accident. A car crash. Edward went straight there."

"Which hospital?" I demanded. "Why is he alone? He shouldn't be alone! You have to tell me – "

"Bella!" Carlisle said, putting his hands on my shoulders. He fixed me with his gaze, "He is at North-western Memorial. It's not far."

I nodded quickly and went out onto the busy street.

* * *

><p>I have two more exams to go and then I'm off to freezing cold England the week after but I'm sure there will be one, probably two, chapters up before then!<p>

**I hope you enjoyed enough to review...or are enraged or bored enough to review...either way! :) I'd love to hear your opinions!**

**Also, if you want to see the magic of ballet in reality, youtube youth at risk ballet hoo - it's Romeo and Juliet but with disadvantaged, troubled teens performing most of the roles _amazingly _well!**

Thanks for reading! Cheers :)


	38. Chapter 38

Hello!

Exams are over! Yay! Though I am not particularly happy with any of them...but oh well.

**Thanks so much to those who reviewed! ****You inspire me!**

I've had a crazy day of rehearsals and supervising auditions and now it's super late and I have a big day of performances and set up and bleh tomorrow so I'll be off!

Please do enjoy, and review!

* * *

><p><em>Joby Talbot - Alice's Adventures in Wonderland<em>

* * *

><p>After Angela's fall and my constant trips to the Forks Medical Centre for physio, I was becoming increasingly used to hospitals. But the Northwestern emergency room was a far cry from the subdued, uneventful atmosphere of Hornswell. There were rows and rows of uncomfortable-looking seats, with babies crying and at least two people arguing with nurses. Other people just looked to sick or pained to make much noise. And there was a queue for the coveted vending machine.<p>

I wove my way to the desk, where an old nurse with garish lipstick sat behind a pane of bulletproof glass. "I'm looking for Anthony Masen," I said, hoping my voice would carry over the raucous waiting room and through the glass.

She gave me an annoyed look and typed something into her computer. Her eyebrow became pointed when she got the result, "He's been moved to a private room. What is your relationship to the patient?"

"Um," crap… "I'm his daughter." Because I just looked so much like flawless, classical Edward.

The nurse gave me a shrewd look. _Believe me, _I willed her. _Please believe me. _But thankfully she pressed a button and the door next to the desk clicked open. "He's on the fourth floor. Ward Eight."

"Thank you," I said and hurried through.

I fought not to run through the quiet pastel-painted corridors. Doctors and nurses in their scrubs strode along with each other, talking or ticking clipboards. They gave me slightly surprised looks as I rushed past them. I had totally forgotten that I was still in my pointe shoes and pink tights, with only my Colaianni sweater to make me 'decent'. I found the stairs and made my way up – I seemed to be getting quite the workout today. Pointes weren't easy to run up stairs in. They weren't comfortable in any situation, really. But I didn't notice. All I could think of was Edward and his father.

The fourth floor seemed to be much quieter. I walked out into a white reception area, with a much nicer looking nurse sitting behind a grey backlit desk. "I was told Anthony Masen was here?" I said, puffing. "I'm his daughter."

"Bella?" I spun around and there was Edward, at the end of one of the adjoining corridors. His voice was tired. His face looked too pale.

"Edward," I whispered, swiftly crossing the waiting room and pulling him into my arms, mindlessly going onto my pointes to gain some height. His arms, hesitant at first, wrapped round my waist, holding me tightly. I felt his breath shake in my ear. I closed my eyes and wove my fingers into his unruly hair, holding him. I felt his tense body slowly, slowly relax against mine. Of all the things to happen…why now? Why him?

Eventually, Edward pulled back, looking me up and down, "So you're my sister?"

I gave him a smile, "It was the only way they were going to let me in…" I trailed off, studying his face again. "Is he going to be okay?"

Edward looked down, "He, uh…he's in surgery." He bit his lip, letting go of my side to push a hand through his hair.

"Come on," I whispered, leading him to a row of seats. Thankfully, no one else was around, and the nurse behind the desk couldn't see us. I sat down next to him, perched on the edge of my seat. I took hold of his hand, clasping his fingers in both of mine.

Edward looked down at our entwined hands, his thumb stroking my palm as he spoke, "He was driving and talking on the phone at the same time, apparently. And some idiot came out of nowhere at this intersection. Father wasn't paying enough attention and the other guy was running a red…" he let out a breath. "So they collided. He was unconscious when they got him out. Apparently there's a lot of internal bleeding. They have to stop it now or…" I pressed my lips together and squeezed his hand. His eyes looked haunted with worry.

I thought of saying I was sure he would be fine. Or that…well, death…was very unlikely. But I knew that nothing would be all that reassuring. I just had to trust that my presence somehow helped.

"They called Esme at _Force," _Edward said. "And then she was trying to get hold of Carlisle but he was taking class."

"Of course," I murmured. Carlisle would never take a call during class. He had probably switched his phone off.

"He was coming to meet me," Edward said bleakly. "Probably to demand why Jacob was still Romeo."

I stayed silent – there was no way I could reply to that without getting into things which were not appropriate at a time like this.

"Sorry," he said abruptly, pulling his hand away. "I shouldn't mention that kind of thing."

I stared at his face. He looked so tired. There were bags under his eyes, and he really did look pale. I frowned. This didn't just look like the stress of the moment. It looked like he hadn't seen sunlight or rest for months. I realized that the confident, authoritative man who taught the chorus boys everything and scared the hell out of Jacob was something of a mask. At least in some ways. "Edward…" I said softly, touching his cheek, but then trailed off. I knew why he was tired. I knew why he couldn't sleep. And of course I knew why he was so worried now. There was nothing I could do. "I'm here for you," I whispered eventually.

Edward's hand covered my own, "Thank you. But you have a show to get ready for."

I shook my head and, in some kind of bizarre confidence, moved closer to him, resting my head on his chest, my hand curling around his shoulder. "I'm staying," I whispered into the warmth of his chest. "You have been there for me every time I've needed you. Now it's my turn."

Tentatively, Edward's arms came around my waist, his cheek resting on my head.

I had never felt warmer or safer or more _right_. There was no place on Earth as perfect as Edward's arms.

We stayed like that for a long time. I didn't bother to check. I just felt my heart beat slowly come in time with Edward's, feeling his chest rise and fall against me. He gently drew circles on my shoulder until his fingers came to rest. His breath slowed a little, but his arms still kept me close as he sunk into what I hoped was a peaceful, unworried sleep. I could not pretend to feel sorry for Mister Masen. He seemed like a nasty piece of work. But, then, wasn't I? And God knows I felt sorry for myself every waking hour. Regardless, though, I needed him to be okay for Edward. I needed him to survive and be fine because Edward did not deserve the pain of losing his father after knowing a life without his mother. Edward didn't deserve any more pain.

I wasn't exactly a religious person, but in the minutes and hours that I sat there, holding the man I could not help but care deeply for, I found myself praying to whatever or whomever may be out there, just begging for his father to live.

"Edward Masen?" I saw a pair of surgical boots appear in my blurred vision. I must have been dropping off…

Edward was awake in a flash. Both of us stood, Edward's hand clutching my own. The doctor stood there in his green scrubs, that typical doctor's poker face masking his expression. "Yes?" Edward said.

The doctor glanced at me before looking back to him, "I'm Doctor Campbell, your father's surgeon."

"Is he going to be okay?" Edward demanded.

"His spleen was ruptured in the impact," Doctor Campbell continued. I wanted to kick him with my toe box… "And there was a lot of blood loss. But we expect him to make a full recovery."

Edward exhaled, his grip loosening. "When can I see him?"

"He got into recovery about half an hour ago. He is alert. As soon as he's just had a final check, you can go and see him."

"Thank you," Edward said, his smile wide.

The doctor gave us a nod and walked back down the corridor.

It was all of two seconds before Edward lifted me up in a tight, relieved hug. I laughed, my hands on his shoulders, "Thank goodness."

"Quite right," Edward said swiftly, lowering me down and pulling my mouth to his. I gasped. His hands ran down my arms, his lips fervent against my own.

I was so surprised that I just gripped his shoulders and let him…before I started to kiss back. I poured myself into him, pulling myself as close as possible to him, letting his fingers weave into my hair, my own tugging at his. Our lips met again and again and again, drinking each other in. My heart thudded erratically, my breath turned ragged.

"No." I finally got out, tearing myself from him. My hand clapped over my mouth.

My chest rose and fell so quickly as I stepped away. "We can't."

Edward stared at me, confused, "Bella…" His pale skin was flushed, his eyes flaming.

"We can't," I repeated.

He took a step toward me, but I put my hand out, stopping him in his tracks. But he wouldn't cease. He took my hand in his own, "What is it?" It felt so warm, so strong. I didn't want to ever forget this feeling.

I shut my eyes for a moment, my teeth digging into my lip so hard that I tasted blood. I opened them, trying to find some way of saying the one thing I didn't want to say. "You wanted an answer."

Edward's hands slipped from my fingers, his face racked with pain, "Don't do this, Bella."

"I can't let you lose your career," I whispered, staring at a tile by his foot. "Not for me."

"I wouldn't be losing my career, Bella," Edward said, taking another step toward me. I didn't look up. "The Royal Ballet will accept me coming late."

I shook my head, "We both know that if I…if you stayed now then you would never leave me again."

"Is that so bad?" he demanded. "Bella, I love you."

I looked up, electricity jolting through me at his words. His eyes were hopeful, and naked. He meant it.

But I shook my head, trying not to let the tears flow, "You don't, Edward. I've changed. I'm not the Bella Swan you fell in love with."

"I don't care," he said imploringly, putting his hands on my shoulders. I shivered at his touch. "I still love you."

"I care," I whispered. "I won't let you ruin your career for me. You have to go." _More, _I told myself. "Because I'm staying with Jacob."

Edward stepped away, pushing a hand through his hair in desperate exasperation, "You know that he can't make you happy, Bella."

"That doesn't concern you anymore," I said, the coldness of my words painful in my ears. "You can move on now."

"It's not that simple!" he exclaimed, turning on me, his eyes furious. _He can see right through me…_

"You said you would respect my decision," I said, quietly returning his gaze. Fire against ice. "You…you gave me your word."

That fire seemed to dull in his eyes. The fight seemed to die. Edward blinked, looking down as he thought for a moment. His jaw…his whole body was stiff. When he finally spoke, his voice taut, "I'll fly out on the first flight tomorrow. I'll be here tonight for my father. You won't have to see me again."

_Don't cry. Don't. Just don't. _I nodded quickly, folding my arms tightly across my chest.

"You can go now," he muttered, his knuckles turning white as his hands balled into fists.

"You have to know," I whispered. "That I forgive you, Edward. For what happened with Tanya." A tear slipped down my cheek. That was it – my one reason for hating him was gone. There was nothing to cover the loss.

Edward looked at me. I felt the wall between us. The wall he had just put up, "Go, Bella."

I wanted to say goodbye. Goodbye or anything but…but instead, I said nothing, because what I truly wanted to say would unravel everything. I walked out of the waiting room, his scent surrounding me as I passed. He stayed stock still.

I walked down the corridor for a while before I realized I'd missed the stairs. I cursed and turned back around shoving my hands into my pockets. "Miss Masen?" came a voice. A nurse stepped out of one of the rooms.

It took me a second to realize he was talking to me. He gave me a kind smile at my dazed look, "Your father is ready to see you now, if you'd like to come this way." He held the door open for me.

I stared at it, "Uh…I…"

"It's alright," said the nurse. "He's in good form – I think he's a tough cookie." He gestured for me to go in.

"Th-thank you," I said. _What the Hell am I doing? _I thought as I stepped into the square, dimly lit room. The door clicked shut behind me.

Anthony Masen lay on a big hospital bed, propped up by the mattress and pillows. There was an IV sticking out of his arm, and a tube across his scratched face. He had stitches above his left eyebrow and along his cheekbone. Of course, all the damage was really underneath the blue hospital comforter.

"You," he said immediately. His voice was scratchy, but just as venomous as I remembered. His eyes – the same green as Edward's – looked at me unforgivingly. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry," I breathed. "This is a mistake – "

"Where's my son?" he demanded, wincing as he moved up. He began reaching for his phone, "Why is – ah!"

"Mister Masen!" I exclaimed, wrenching my hands from my pockets to catch him as he fumbled.

There was the clink of metal on the floor as I helped him safely back into the centre of the bed. We both turned to look.

The blue sapphires seeming to wink cheekily in the white light. "Shit," I swore, bending down to pick up Edward's ring. Of course – I had shoved it into this sweater when Jacob had walked in after my failed attempt to give it back to Edward the night I got drunk…

"Where did you get that?" Anthony Masen snapped, breaking me out of my reverie.

"I – " I blinked, even more embarrassed than before. "Edward bought for me." Seeing his murderous look, I quickly put the ring down on his bedside table. "You can keep it," I said and hurried from the room.

"Miss Swan!" I heard him call, but there was no way I was going back in there. He might be an invalid but he was going to live and I owed that man absolutely nothing and besides, there was no way my heart could take another word.

\*\*/*/

The cab journey back to the theatre was too short, even though I was running desperately late. I climbed out shakily, looking up at the big arches of the opera house entrance with nausea in me. I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to be around anyone.

I entered through the back – audience members were already arriving in their tuxedos and evening gowns. It was the Chicago opening night and I knew that should mean big pressure. Chicago was spoilt with the Joffrey and other touring companies – it was part of the reason why we were here for three nights. They would have high standards, and their impeccable dress sense seemed to go along with that.

The corridors were buzzing as I made my way to my dressing room, with everyone busily moving between their rooms, exchanging eye shadow and gossip. I got away from them as quickly as possible.

My hands shook as I got into my dress and tried to do my makeup. My face was streaked with tears, making my eyes red and puffy. God knows what the cab driver had thought of me. But I was beyond caring. I had told Edward to leave. To go. And it felt like I had just torn my heart out.

My hair ended up in a simple bun – I couldn't do any more. I left my dressing room and drifted to the stage door like a ghost. I passed Daniella and Bridget at one point, but their words just evaporated before they reached me.

The curtains were drawn and everyone was practising their individual parts on the stage. The orchestra was being clapped in. There was still a barre on at the back, in front of the big staircase the Prince would descend. I went to it and started stretching. My pointe shoes were stained grey at the bottom. My next pair was back at the hotel, so there was no point in worrying.

"Bella!" came a terse voice from behind me. Jacob strode over in his Romeo costume, his fist clenched, his expression angry. I put my foot up on the barre, reaching forward to touch my toes. "Where the Hell have you been? With Edward? When you should have been here?" When I didn't answer, he huffed, "This is so fucking ridiculous. You drag me out of bed to teach me some stupid thing and tell me how important it is and then go let Edward – "

"Shut up," I snapped. I pulled my leg off the barre and turned to face him. Oh, he might have looked angry but I was beyond it. "Listen, Jacob," I said. "I have just done something which I know I am going to regret for the rest of my whole damned life and I did it for you, you blithering, over competitive idiot. And I know now that you are utterly incapable of dancing well enough to save our roles so I am going to try my level best to dance well enough to save them for the both of us, so you had better just suck it up and go along with what I am doing."

Jacob stared at me, open mouthed. And, judging by the silence of the stage, I assumed everyone else was staring as well.

"Just try smiling," I muttered and walked off stage, deciding I would warm up in my dressing room, instead. Oh, some part of me felt much better for that. The rest of me still felt awful.

Stepping onto the stage that night was like stepping into an abyss. My mind was so clouded with the pain of losing Edward that I hardly thought as I moved from the wings and into my position right by the entrance. I was hardly aware of what I was doing. I was wondering what Edward was doing now. At his father's bedside, telling him he was going to London? Explaining to him why I had been in his room? Or was he it back at his father's apartment, packing? Slowly, painfully trying to move through this horrific pain – trying to function with its constant, unrelenting suffocation? Because that was how I felt. I felt like I would never feel right again. I felt like the very last of my energy was gone, shouted away at Jacob.

Leah came on in her thick nurse's dress, tiredly taking a seat in my armchair and fanning herself. She was holding the teddy bear. I just stared at her.

_I'm meant to dance now, _some part of me said.

_Dance._

_Dance…_

_I have to dance. Properly._

I had to dance without Monsieur Repin's technique. I had to try and scrape up what remained of what I had once been and dance like that. Dance like Edward had always wanted me to dance.

He had always believed in me. That I was capable of getting back to that. I still didn't believe him. But I still knew that I could get halfway there. And I knew that I had to try, because, for some reason, dancing Juliet was important. And Jacob dancing Romeo was important.

It was funny to think of anything being important right now. All that had mattered was Edward. And now he was gone…

_Just do it, _I told myself. _For him._

And so I forced myself to take the first step, stepping out from the side and into full view. I stood at the back of the stage, in the 'doorway' to my rooms, on pointe, my arms in the air. I was facing straight out, staring at the audience. I could see them all, even though the house lights were off. I could see the thousands of white programs on their laps and the shimmering of a dress here and there. I saw the glowing green of the exit signs and the rails of the balcony. Jacob had taught me to think of the audience as a blank wall where the mirror should have been.

Tonight, I saw them for the first time. _I have to dance, _I realized. _For all these people. I have to tell them the story of Juliet. Not me. Juliet. I can't show my pain. I have to show them _her.

The lilting, cheeky music began. This terrified me. In fact, it terrified me so much that I didn't have time to think about technique or any such thing. I slipped the smile onto my face, taking a weary, excited breath, and hurried over to Leah, leaning on the chair and flicking my leg up behind me, sneakily snatching the teddy bear from her grasp.

She turned around angrily. I giggled and spun away, lifting the bear high above me. Leah gruffly stood up, her hands on her hips, and began to move after me. I poked my tongue out at her and leapt away nimbly.

The audience laughed.

_Oh God! _My head screamed, but something else had clearly taken control of my body. I jumped away again, this time scurrying behind the chair. We faced off, her at the front, me behind it. I tiptoed round, clutching the teddy bear to me and grinning. She looked really rather angry now. Here was my chance! In a split second, I had feinted one way and leapt the other, to more laughs from the audience. Leah thrust her hands into the air in frustration whilst I toured the room in a grand circle, letting my dress poof up around me and looking back every so often to give her a good old smile.

Eventually, she gave up and stopped. That was when I threw it to her and started running about again, enjoying the freedom. I then decided that she would actually be quite a good dance partner. The audience seemed to chuckle as I grasped her hand and waist and took her on a very out of time waltz about the room, constantly using her as a leaning post for a penche or arabesque.

But then the trumpets sounded. Jasper and Alice, looking so very regal in their dark red outfits, entered. I excitedly left Leah and ran to my father, giving him a kiss on the cheek – something Carlisle had once asked me to do, which I never had since it was just too awkward. Jasper gave me a hug, with an extra squeeze. He gave me a subtle wink as we pulled back, his eyes shining. _I must be doing this right, _I thought. With a quick smile to him, I then kissed Alice on the cheek, managing to do an arabesque at the same time.

And then they both parted and Jasper held out his hand to introduce Paris to me. I stared at Joseph – I think that really was his name. He looked so nervous as he took my hand. I realized it wasn't acting. To be honest, I had hardly noticed my pas de deuxs with him in the past performances. I swallowed, realizing that he must have been mortified ever since that rehearsal with Edward and me, when I hadn't even given him the time of day.

I tried to give him a reassuring smile as he kissed my knuckles, but then I had to shyly pull away and tiptoe back behind Leah. I had been so stupid – I was meant to be afraid of him, not the other way round. But, then, I had made him feel like dirt every second of the time we had rehearsed and performed together.

It made me feel sick as Jasper made me come out from behind Leah. Juliet curtsied to Paris and unwillingly let him take her hand again before she snatched it away and began misbehaving once more – running in a circle around her nurse and then hopping en pointe, showing that she didn't want to meet people; she just wanted to have fun.

But me? I still felt sick. I didn't feel any of what I showed Juliet to be feeling. The scene continued, and every time the audience laughed, I was thankful that they could not hear my true thoughts. There was no longer the constant monologue of technical corrections, but there wasn't that beautiful nothingness, where nothing needed to be thought because every ounce of emotion and feeling was shown in my dance. No, there really was no way of going back to the way things had been. But I was doing a good enough job.

The scene finished and I hurried off, holding the bear triumphantly in my hands.

"That was amazing!" came a squeal and Alice's arms came around my shoulders, the heavy sleeves of her gown swinging against my back.

"Thanks." She pulled back. I gave her a shaky smile. Her grin turned to a frown in the sparse backstage light.

"But you're not okay?"

I just smiled again, "I'm fine." I quickly detached myself and went back to my dressing room to change for the ballroom scene.

By the time I returned, pearl headpiece and gold dress arranged on my shaking, tired body, it was almost time for my entrance. Jacob was already on stage, hidden somewhere amongst the crowd of party guests.

I danced on, followed by two lines of other young ladies in matching white dresses. They were meant to be my friends – I didn't even know their names in real life because anyone in the corps had been so below me that they weren't worth the bother.

I performed my first proper variation, flitting across the stage with innocent joy. It was surprisingly easy to forget about technique. I just ran on autopilot, smiling and being so carefree whilst I drowned on the inside. Jacob appeared near the end of my variation, watching me from behind his plain black mask. Then, one of the girls came up to me, offering me a seat and a lute. I sat down, delicately tucking one ankle behind the other and pretended to strum.

A space was cleared in the crowd and Jacob stepped into it and began to dance to my music.

I watched him jump and kick his legs up and perform every step as he had rehearsed it a thousand times. His eyes stared blankly toward the blackness of the front right wing. He was so disconnected from the music that even though it was perfectly in time, it looked as though he was completely out – like all his moves just didn't fit.

This was where my work had to begin. I couldn't be on autopilot now – I had to try and make the audience think he was better than he really was.

I leaned forward, watching him excitedly, like there was no one more beautiful on Earth. I stopped playing and clasped a hand to my chest, deliberately making my body move with his movements – as if he was so amazing that I was entranced.

As if he was Edward.

Jacob kept going with that same dull expression. I stood up and smiled at him. He was halfway through a set of echappes and gave me a look. Finally getting his attention, I took a step toward him and tried to put as much emphasis on my smile as possible. _Smile, Jacob, please! _

Thankfully, that sarcastic smirk came to his lips and he kept going with it stuck on his face like cement.

I kept up my charade of being hypnotised by him. It was all about perspective – if the audience liked me enough to see through my perspective, then perhaps they would like Jacob, too.

Emmett's amazing variation came next, with him artfully teasing the courtiers into leaving Romeo and Juliet alone in the ballroom. He sent of the last couple by pinching the girl on the butt. I was fairly sure that was _not _part of Carlisle's original choreography, but the audience seemed to like it.

With the stage clear of anyone else, we began our first pas de deux. Jacob set about it with clinical precision and focus, but I dredged up some more of that childish energy and practically threw myself at him, running and then colliding into him at such a pace that he had to stagger back slightly. I just pretended to giggle and locked my arms around his neck. He glared at me from behind the mask. I took advantage of the eye contact, pretending it was a romantic gaze, not a furious one, and put a hand on his cheek. So this was what it felt like to touch a guy's face! Oh, he was so handsome!

Such ideas definitely didn't portray the nausea inside me. Just a few hours ago, I had been in Edward's arms. His lips against mine. Entangled in each other.

But no more.

Gerry ran out from the wings and I quickly stepped away, giving Jacob a push so that he wouldn't look so boringly unsurprised. I could practically feel the heat of his anger from where I stood.

After a bit of mime and arm waving, Gerry was gone once more, and I hurried back to Jacob. With our usual ease, he hooked a hand around my leg and lifted me up over his head. I smiled, my arms floating up and down, pretending to enjoy the feeling.

In a spark of inspiration, I reached down and gently brushed my finger against his cheek, making sure my face was in full view for the audience to see just how much Jacob beguiled me.

"What the Hell do you think you are doing?" Jacob demanded as soon as we were off stage, tugging me out of the wing by the arm.

"Saving your role," I told him, shaking his hand off. "And don't worry; there is plenty more where that came from."

It was exhausting, trying to dance Juliet properly for the first time whilst trying to make Jacob look like he actually felt something whilst, underneath it all, feeling the heavy, suffocating weight of my decision with Edward. I couldn't let myself think about the fact that I would never see him again or it would all fall through.

Fortunately, the more I enraged Jacob, the easier it was to make it seem like he actually felt something as Romeo. I guess that I was discovering that any emotion was better than none.

I should have realized it a long time ago. I had blocked mine off because it hurt too much to think of Edward's betrayal or what I had felt for him. But now, even when all I could feel was pain, I could still make bitter memories transform into a smile on my face.

And I could make Jacob's anger – the first emotion he'd ever cared to show in his dancing – work to our advantage.

When the kiss came in the Balcony Scene, I pushed away any sickness I felt and kissed Jacob like I couldn't bear to leave him. It was one of the only times in the entire ballet when I felt like I was actually portraying what I really felt. But I was kissing Edward, not Jacob. I was kissing Edward and it was a kiss which begged him to forgive me. Which begged him to never leave. To never let me go.

When Jacob pushed me away, his hands gripping my arms painfully tight, it didn't look like repulsion and rage to the audience. No, to them his tension was the aching pain of wanting to continue kissing his Juliet but not being able to. The muscles popping in his arms, the way he stared at me – it was all because Romeo just couldn't bear the distance between them. He couldn't bear the divide caused by their names.

By the time we were once again at the death scene, I was glad of a chance to not have to move. I had spent my moments off stage telling other dancers what to do. It had been easy to convince the corps boys that they needed to take more time not letting Jacob through during the fight scene – all I had to do was tell them that Edward had wanted them to do it. I then watched as he furiously had to push through them to get to the dying Emmett without getting out of time with the music.

"It actually looks like he cares," Jasper murmured, coming up beside me in the wings.

"Good," I said, but my work was far from over. I told the guy playing the apothecary to keep the potion out of Jacob's reach for a little while longer. By the time Jacob pried it from his fingers, you could almost believe he desperately wanted to die rather than be in a world where Juliet didn't exist.

And then, when I was finally lying limp on the floor of the tomb, I simply didn't bother to give him any help as he threw me over his shoulder or picked me up. My body really was limp. I just let him stagger around and carelessly drop me to the floor, when he usually relied on my support to complete the movements with near-perfect precision.

But not having to do anything finally let me think. And all I could remember was how different this had felt with Edward last night. How raw the pain in his dancing had been. How he had held me. How I had believed every second of this scene.

And so when I woke up to find Jacob dead, I thought that maybe I would be able to dance like I had the night before – dancing the same pain that I truly felt. But it wasn't to be. It wasn't Edward lying there. It was Jacob. I danced and it was good enough. There was enough anguish on my face. I think I could not throw my thoughts into every step because my mind wasn't really there at all. It was across town, where Edward was sitting at his father's side. It was in London, where I prayed with all my heart that he would forget about me and have the greatest of careers. It was back at _Force, _in that moonlit ballet studio, where we had danced to _Clair de Lune _and kissed like nothing else could ever matter.

Perhaps it was sad and pathetic that I couldn't dance the way I wanted to because of my feelings for a guy I had wilfully chosen to let go of. Perhaps it was ridiculous to rely so much on feeling at all. Why couldn't I just work on my acting skills? Why couldn't I just keep my life and my work separate?

But you have to understand that artists are different. We are illogical and brash and silly and even though it would be so much easier to leave everything behind at the stage door, it is the emotion that we bring onto the stage with us that makes us great. And so what makes us great, makes us fall.

With Edward's departure, I knew that I had fallen further than I ever could have imagined. I lay on the cold stage floor, listening to the swish of the closing curtains, and prayed that I had made the right choice.

* * *

><p>Hope you enjoyed! Now, unfortunately this chapter got to six thousand words without reaching a very...hmmm...interesting part. Hehehehe...so I'm sorry to leave it where it is, but I figured you'd rather have this big chunk to read whilst I write up the next bit!<p>

With regard to how many chapters left...five at the most...I think...

**I'll try and get another update in before I leave! Send me a review and tell me your thoughts, pretty please!**

I know, I sound like a broken record but fanfic writers really do appreciate reviews - there is a reason why my word count for original work is teeny!

Anywho, thanks for reading! And happy Thanksgiving, America! I'm jealous...it sounds like a warm up to Christmas...


	39. Chapter 39

Hi everyone!

Well, I am now safely in the freezing cold winter of England and couldn't be happier (or more jet lagged).

I'm so sorry for the late update but this was a seriously long chapter which I've decided to chop in half to get out to you a bit earlier!

**Thank you so much for the amazing amount of reviews you sent for the last chapter! It was so, so inspiring!**

**You are, as always, my inspiration!**

I hope you enjoy the first half of this very...revealing chapter!

Please review after and share what you think!

* * *

><p><em>One Direction - <em>_I watched their documentary movie thing on the plane and it's not actually half bad...could it be that they can actually sing?!_

_Raphael Lake - Pretty much all of his work. It's in a genre called 'Epic Pop' and it's really awesome! Yay for new music!_

_Howard Shore, Lord of the Rings - LIGHT THE BEACONS! (can't wait for the Hobbit to come out!)_

* * *

><p>Jacob didn't say a word to me as we waited for the rest of the cast to take their bows. Half of me was terrified that the audience would hate us – that they had seen through my attempts to force emotion. The other half just didn't care. I was so tired. Tired of myself, above all else. I worried that I would not be able to live with the decision I had just made, even though reason and conscience said it was the right choice.<p>

We heard the crowd's volume increase as Jasper and Alice ran out hand in hand. Jasper kissed her knuckles before releasing her hand and allowing her to step forward, taking a low, graceful curtsy. She smiled gratefully at the audience, that glint of mischief in her eyes. And they all smiled and clapped back, the connection between her and them so very clear. She had won their hearts, even as something of a villain.

As they stepped back into the front line, Jacob brusquely took my hand and practically dragged me out after him. I hurried to catch up as we went through the rows of dancers, all holding hands. Butterflies went raucous in my stomach as we reached the front. _Please. _

"Bravo!" someone shouted. And all of a sudden, the clapping filled the opera house. I let out a breath of relief and stepped forward, letting gravity pull me down into my curtsy. I shut my eyes and just listened. It wasn't the thunder of the reception Edward and I had had at the Review. But, then, that had been with Edward – when I had been whole as a dancer. No, this was good enough.

I rose up again, though I could have just as easily laid down and slept, and let Jacob come forward. The applause didn't decrease. I took a moment to look about the crowd. They were smiling. No one was leaving. And there, up in the gods at the very back of the theatre, were two girls, standing and jumping about excitedly.

It wasn't a standing ovation. But it was most definitely enough.

I smiled as we stepped back and linked hands with the others. Jasper held my right and Jacob my left. The clapping went on as we all came forward and bowed as one. There were no curtain calls, but I didn't care. The curtains swept closed on a tiring, stressful performance.

Without a second to think, my hand was ripped from Jacob and I was lifted high up into the air. "Jesus, Bells!" Emmett exclaimed, his arms wrapped around my thighs. "That was the wickedest thing I have ever seen! You are _sneaky!"_

As he lowered me down, Rosalie slipped her arm around his waist, looking at me with what could never be described as warmth…but perhaps a little respect. "That was clever enough to almost be Russian," she said mildly.

Jasper laughed, tugging on one of his sister's loose curls, "So complimentary."

"Where's Edward?" Emmett asked, looking around. "I hope he saw this…"

"I should find Jacob," I murmured, realizing he had disappeared. "He must be furious with me."

"Who cares?" Rosalie said.

Alice put a hand on my shoulder, her eyes sympathetic, "Go."

I gave her a quick smile and headed through the groups of dancers to the stage door. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits tonight – we had never had such a good reception, even if it wasn't truly that much at all.

Jacob's dressing room door was open when I found it. He was sitting at his mirror, angrily pulling his slippers from his feet. They were blistered underneath. I paused a moment, watching him with a growing ache of guilt. Perhaps I had been doing it for our sakes, but what I had done tonight was not something you were meant to do to someone else on stage. It was like an actor stealing someone else's lines or a singer changing the melody in a duet. Like a trapeze artist deciding not to bother catching her partner and instead doing something else. I had mucked around with almost every single scene he had been in so that he didn't know what was going on. In front of thousands of people, he had been entirely at my mercy. And particularly for someone like Jacob, who focused so hard on getting one version of events correct – it would have disarmed him completely.

Gathering my courage, I gently knocked on the door, "Can I come in?"

"Do I have a choice?" he said tersely, glancing at me in the mirror as he wiped off his makeup.

I sighed and stepped in, shutting the door behind me and standing in front of it with my hands awkwardly clasped together. "I'm sorry," I began quietly.

"No you're not," he spat. "You couldn't be fucking happier."

"I didn't want us to lose our roles," I whispered. "Something had to change, Jacob. And it paid off."

"It was an embarrassment!" Jacob snapped, his face distorting in barely controlled anger. "You made a mockery of me and everyone could see it."

"The audience liked you," I said, nervously coming to sit beside him on a big black theatre storage box. "I know it was not the best way to go about things, but there was no time."

"There would have been time if you hadn't been with Edward."

"Jacob," I gently put a hand to his cheek, turning his face to look at me. It was unforgiving. I swallowed uncomfortably, "You know that rehearsing over and over again wasn't going to help us. I needed rest. I fainted, Jake."

"Don't call me that," he snapped, pushing my hand away.

I gazed at him, seeing his tortured expression. "I'm sorry," I repeated. "I'm sorry that I shouted at you before and I'm sorry that it had to be as embarrassing as it was. But if we make it through the next day and Carlisle makes the right decision then everything will be better."

Jacob gave a bitter smile, looking down at his dressing table, "Not while Edward is still here, fucking around with everything and turning you against me. We were a perfect partnership before he came, Bella."

I bit my lip, picking at my nails, "Jacob, you have to know that I'm with you. I'm committed to you." The feeling of Edward's lips on mine burning through my memory, making me shiver. I looked at Jacob, trying to make myself seem more resolved, "I'm yours."

"Then why is it you spend more time with him now than you do with me?"

I sighed and had to stop myself from pushing a hand through my hair like Edward always did. I felt so guilty. I felt like everything I said was a lie, even though I was trying to tell the truth. "With Edward…Jacob, there was just a lot that we needed to resolve. I know that blind hatred might have worked for you and it worked for me until he arrived here and I remembered that a long time ago, I…"

"You what?" Jacob snapped. "Loved him?"

I shook my head quickly, "I cared about him. And I cared about him for a reason. He is not a bad person, he just makes mistakes. Just like we do."

"No," Jacob said. "He is far worse than me."

"But isn't this enough?" I asked. "Can't you just let him be?"

"Can't you actually show some integrity and stop changing sides?"

I huffed and stood up. "Edward doesn't see sides," I said. "Perhaps that's why I have been spending more time with him. Because he is a genuine person! He is not so absorbed in whatever hatred you've got for each other that he doesn't think about other people." I tried not to let the tears fall as I made for the door. "Maybe I shouldn't have tried to help you like you helped me."

I was about to step out when Jacob jumped up. "Wait, Bella," he said desperately, grabbing my hand. "Where are you going?"

I spun around, staring at him, "I suspect you wouldn't care unless I was going to Edward? To see him? To 'change sides'?"

Jacob just gaped at me like a fish for a moment before taking a deep breath. He considered my hand in his, and then hesitantly reached behind me to close the door. His familiar scent, so comforting for so long, surrounded me, just as potent as Edward's. I watched him closely as he gently took my other hand as well. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, looking at me with wide brown eyes. "Will you just…listen to me?"

I studied his face, feeling like I was too tired to listen to another word, but eventually nodded and allowed him to lead me back to the chair. He sat me down and knelt in front of me, holding my hands in his. His eyes glittered in the mirror lights, "I really am sorry, Bella. I know I'm over-competitive, particularly when it comes to Edward." He ran his thumbs over my knuckles as he fought for words, "Look…hating him is the only thing I have thought about for the past few years – it is ingrained in me and I find it hard to see things any other way."

"It doesn't have to be like this," I whispered, grasping his hands.

He nodded, "But it has been for such a long time. And it makes it so hard to…to care about anything else. Any_one _else." He looked up at me meaningfully. "But I do care about you, Bella. More than you could know."

"Then why don't you _show _it?" I asked imploringly. "You are remarkably good at making me feel like dirt."

Jacob shut his eyes, feeling the pain of my words, "Because being in love with you, Bella…it scares me. The emotion is so strong that it scares me." He opened his eyes.

I stared – I could not help it, "You love me?"

He nodded slowly, "I know I should have replied when you said it the night before opening night but you were drunk and I wanted you to remember what I said and not pass it off…"

"Then why didn't you say it after?" I asked.

He gave me a smile, not his signature smirk but a genuine, true smile, "Because I was pathetic and scared of your rejection."

"Surely you've learnt by now," I murmured, remembering back to the day Edward had arrived, when Jacob had only told me he wanted to be with me after telling everyone Gerry was gay. "Surely you've learnt that I wouldn't reject you, Jacob?"

He gave me a look, "Well, recently…"

I nodded in concession, "I know. I have spent too much time with Edward without explaining why."

Jacob looked at our entwined hands, his expression calculating, "So…now. Now, would you still not reject me?" He looked up at me.

I swallowed, "Will you drop your vendetta against Edward?"

He took a deep breath, "Yes. If you will at least…tell me when you're going to see him."

I smiled, "Then I'm sure we can come to an arrangement."

Jacob grinned at me, "You mean you still love me?"

It was like slamming into a brick wall at high speed. I prayed that he mistook my hesitation for something else. _He is all you have left, _I told myself. _Edward is gone. Jacob is all you have. He is your partner. You can't leave him. You used to want to be with him. Edward is gone…_

…_I will learn to love him._

"I need time," I said quietly, feeling sick. "I can't…I can't commit yet, Jacob. But…in time, yes."

Jacob was off his knees in a second and pulling my mouth to his. Responding felt like the most rehearsed, forced thing to do in the World. When kissing Edward had been so right that nothing else mattered, kissing Jacob now made my heart ache. But he was all I had now.

He pulled back, stroking my hair and smiling at me, eyes twinkling.

"You won't have to worry about Edward, though," I said quietly, trying to look as happy as he did. But my lips trembled in the curve of a smile, "He's left."

Jacob froze, "What?"

"He's flying to London in the morning," I said. _And I don't want him to go. _"And he's not coming back."

Jacob stared at blankly over my shoulder for a moment, "Edward's gone."

"Yes," I said, biting my lip to stop the unwanted, secret emotions from spilling forth.

Jacob's gaze flicked back to me, taking in my expression. I hoped it wasn't too transparent.

Thankfully, he smiled and stroked my hair again, "Don't worry, Bella. I told you I would drop my vendetta. If he is gone then I won't worry about it anymore. I'll focus on us."

"I should go," I murmured, not quite able to bear his touch. An icy feeling had settled over me. I felt like I had just tied myself up in a lie which I would regret. It seemed to be a day of regret. And pain.

\*\*/*/

The backstage of the Civic was still buzzing. A few of the corps boys stopped me to ask where Edward was – they wanted to find out why he'd told them to ambush Jacob. "He's staying at his apartment tonight," I told them shakily. Not even Emmett had known that Edward was gone. _He's just with his father, _I told myself. _He's fine. _But I had seen the pain on his face as I had left. Would I ever forget it? I could only hope that one day I would see him and he would be successful and happy. That was why I had told him to leave. I couldn't give him any of that anymore – it was for the best that he left. It was. It had to be.

"Don't look so smug, Swan," came Tanya's too-familiar voice as I continued down the corridor. She was heading the other way in a gold bandage dress which was just a little too short to be appropriate for a Chicago opening night. Her hand clutched a gold-studded phone. Her style was getting so old. "You still didn't get a standing ovation." She smiled at me, her lip gloss shimmering.

"I don't see anyone asking you to take my place," I said stonily.

"I already took your place with Edward," she replied. "It's only a matter of time before I take it again."

I stared at her, "You didn't take my place with Edward. Anyone can see that he can't stand you. You'll never have what we had."

Tanya's smile faded a little, but then she straightened, a smirk twisting onto her lips instead, "Well, what you had is not the only option available, Bella."

"Whatever," I muttered and brushed past her, Chanel or whatever perfume she doused herself in making it difficult to breathe.

I walked back to the hotel with the Royals. Jacob had gone on ahead with Gerry and Leah, leaving the rest of us to trundle along. I didn't really want to be with anyone, but it was a dark night and we were meant to stay in groups. They chattered away, congratulating me whilst I tried not to break down. Ahead of us, Jasper was holding Alice's hand as she balanced along the curb, looking at her with such tenderness that I had to stop watching. I couldn't imagine Jacob and I being like that. I didn't even know why I had given him hope of us ever happening. Perhaps it was to give me hope – the hope that one day I would somehow be able to move on from Edward.

Where was he now? Still at his father's side? I could imagine him in that dark hospital room, the city lights coming through the blinds as he watched his father sleep. His hands would be loosely clasped, his head bowed, his elbows resting on his knees, lost in his thoughts.

We reached the hotel lobby, warm air blasting down from above the doors, welcoming us back to our temporary home. "He's not that hot," Adela was saying, staring at the guy behind the desk, who was watching all the ballet girls pass appreciatively.

"You're biased," Bridget sniggered, glancing at Robbie.

"Who's biased?" said Jacob, walking up to our group and slipping an arm around me. I shifted uncomfortably. I had said I needed time…

"Adela," Danny informed him with a giggle. "Carlisle found her in Robbie and Seth's room last night!"

"Thank God I was in the shower," Seth muttered.

"Guess it's not your kind of action, huh?" Danny teased thoughtlessly. Everyone went quiet.

Seth looked at her fumingly, "I am not gay! Why does everyone keep saying I am?" He turned and stalked off. We all watched him go in silence. I wanted to go after him, but I was too tired for any more.

"You should sleep," Jacob said, feeling me sway. His brow was furrowed with concern, "And sleep in, too. We have been pushing ourselves too hard."

I gave him a small smile, "So you admit it?"

He smiled back, "Maybe I'm beginning to."

"Bella." We turned round to see Vicky standing in front of us in a grey cocktail dress – I was guessing she'd been in the audience. And her face, unlike the slightly out of character kindness from last night, was furious, "I need to talk to you. Your fouettes tonight were bordering on horrendous."

Jacob's grip tightened around my waist, "I think Bella's a little tired, Vic."

She didn't even look at him, instead grabbing my wrist, "I am still your teacher. Now."

"It's fine," I said tiredly to Jacob and let her pull me through the lobby and into the stairwell.

"Where are we going?" I demanded, pulling my hand away. She went down the stairs, not stopping for me. Huffing, I followed her. "Seriously, Vicky, I know my technique was a little off tonight but – "

We reached the bottom level, which only led to a cleaning cupboard of some kind. Vicky turned on me. I was shocked to see tears in her eyes. "Has Edward left?" she demanded.

I blinked, "What?"

"Did you tell Edward to leave?" she said, her voice wavering.

I stared at her open mouthed, "How did you – "

"You are so stupid!" she exclaimed, rubbing a hand down her face. "You could have been leads together! I was working on it – "

"I don't have to explain myself to you," I muttered, still not really understanding what her deal was. I began my way back up the steps, "I'm tired and I need to – "

"I was Giselle, Bella. I was the one who Jacob fell in love with."

* * *

><p><strong>I know - comparatively short. But I am currently looking at the next, nearly completed chapter (literally - nearly done)!<strong>

**However, I am so very curious as to your reaction over Vicky, so please review! It was so interesting to read your thoughts last chapter (particularly one ongoing conversation that was quite intriguing!).**

**Right! Time for a cup of tea!**


	40. Chapter 40

Six thousand words later...

Hello all! So happy to be able to get this out to you in less than forty-eight hours! Yay!

I really wanted to split this in two, as it contains so much stuff but I didn't...sooooo I hope you give me plenty of reviews telling me your opinions on everything - I really, really want to know!

**Thanks to all who reviewed last chapter! As always, it makes writing a lot easier when you are constantly giving me reminders and inspiration and opinions!**

I hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>Cry, Everybody Lies, Kiss Me - Jason Walker<em>

_Blunt the Knives - Howard Shore (Hobbit...again...can't wait!)_

_It Is You (I Have Loved) - Dana Glover (though I mostly listened to the piano version. Was singing it at breakfast this morning because it is just so beautiful!)_

_Two Steps From Hell_

* * *

><p>I froze on the stairs. Vicky? It was Vicky? I turned around slowly. She looked up at me with desperation in her eyes. "That makes no sense," I said. "You can't be…"<p>

"I'm not that old, Bella," she said. "I was in my last year – I was a Royal and Jacob and Edward were in their first year, both auditioning for Albrecht."

"You're the one that Jacob fell in love with?" I asked, sitting down hard on the stairs. She nodded and tentatively came to sit below me. "You're the one who Edward said had to tell me the truth and wouldn't?"

She didn't look at me, instead becoming increasingly interested in her nails, "Edward is a very honourable person. I'm not. He begged me to tell you what conspired between the three of us but I refused." She glanced at me, "Even though he warned me this might happen if I didn't."

"He's gone," I said quietly. "Nothing you could tell me will change that. We've made peace – I told him to go for other reasons."

Vicky gave me a sad smile, "He didn't want you to know so that you would be with him, Bella. He didn't think he deserved to be forgiven. He just wanted you to know who you were dealing with with Jacob."

"The guy who gets drunk when things go bad – I know."

She shook her head, "There is far more to the story."

"And you're going to tell me now?" I said doubtfully.

"Yes," said Vicky. "Because Edward, as usual, was right – you should know." She sighed and rested her elbows on her knees, "Jacob had a crush on me from the first day of term. I guess he admires talent above all else, and I was the best Royal in my year and far better than any of the girls he had to partner in his normal classes. But I also understood his education – how he trained and everything."

"You studied under Monsieur Repin?" I asked.

She shook her head, "No. A woman in California who had similar, though less intense ideas of how to dance. So we often ran into each other after hours, sneaking in for extra practise and everything. I think he was lonely. He found it so hard to relate to everyone else. They saw him as a god, even Leah."

"Nothing's changed," I murmured, thinking of how even now, Leah and Adela and Gerry and everyone still bowed down to him. He was the king of the Royals – it was the first thing I had realized when I had arrived at Aro's.

"He was so used to having Edward around," said Vicky. "I think it took a hit on his confidence that Edward had left him and Monsieur Repin and seemed to be so much happier for it. It was like he had left Jacob for bigger and better things. We talked a lot about that. We talked about everything, really."

I looked at her, taking in her reminiscent, saddened face. "You loved him back, didn't you? But you didn't tell him – he never mentioned it."

She gave me a dry look, "I began to. I never let on to him that I was because I wasn't sure. But he's…magnetic, isn't he?"

I nodded, feeling the strange sensation of speaking to someone who had gone through the exact same experience as I had gone through. It was even weirder that this was with my teacher…

"Then the NFSI rolled around," she continued. "And of course Jake managed to wrangle his way into the auditions for Albrecht. Carlisle took Edward along like that blonde girl this year, to observe and all that. But of course Edward, being Edward, was spotted straight away by the other teachers and asked to audition for Albrecht, same as Jacob. A USB girl became my understudy and Edward became Jacob's."

"Why did Jacob get it?" I asked. "I mean, I know now that there are some serious faults in Monsieur Repin's technique and Edward…"

"Edward hadn't quite struck the balance between technique and emotion," Vicky said with a smile. "It is definitely possible to go to the extreme in the other direction, you know? He just wasn't as good technically as Jake was. I mean, they were only First Years – it was demanding choreography." She gave another sigh, "Anyway, Jacob and I rehearsed as hard as you, though without quite so much drama."

I frowned, "How do you know?"

"Edward's been keeping me informed the past few weeks," she said. "To try to convince me to tell you, above anything else."

"That stuff was confidential!" I exclaimed. "He had no right – "

"Bella," Vicky said in her commanding, teacher tone. "For goodness' sake, he didn't tell me anything I hadn't already seen for myself. You and Jacob had the subtlety of a nuclear bomb. When it comes to Edward keeping secrets, you really don't need to worry. Particularly not you."

I exhaled frustratedly, putting my head in my hands, "Sorry. Long day. So you were rehearsing with Jacob?"

"Yes," she said, sounding relieved to get back to the story. "And that was all fine…but when he wasn't rehearsing, he was spending all his free time with Edward. Since time with the both of us was limited, with me in my last year and Edward at _Force,_ we ended up hanging out a lot together, all three of us." She took a deep breath, "Edward was so carefree. So unburdened. And so kind – always kind, to everyone. I guess the same could never be said for Jacob, though he was always on his best behaviour around me. He was so gentle and kind to me that it was almost overwhelming."

I thought of him kneeling before me in his dressing room…I guess I had even experienced that overwhelming kindness, too.

Vicky stretched her arms above her, looking up at the slits of light coming through the stairs. "He was so young and innocent. I think I was probably the first girl he had crushed on since kindergarten. He treated me like a goddess." She let out a breath, dropping her arms back down. She did look younger. "Maybe that was why I started turning to Edward. He was so much more genuine and sure of himself. Comfortable as the person he was – not just constantly trying to fix things.

"And then Jacob injured himself and, to my secret joy, Edward became my partner."

"And stole Jacob's career," I muttered. "Everyone liked him more, didn't they? Like they still do now?"

Vicky nodded, "They loved him. I loved him. And Jacob didn't suspect anything."

"Did Edward know?" I asked, not sure I wanted to hear the answer.

"Of course not," Vicky said. "When we got to that final morning and I realized this was my last chance and kissed him in the park, he was shocked. Jacob was just in the wrong place at the wrong time when he saw. Edward pushed me away. He explained that he liked me but that was all – there was just something missing, that I couldn't give him."

"Harsh," I said quietly.

She smiled, "When he's open with his emotions, he is very open. Even then, Bella, I think he was waiting for you."

I bit my lip, not willing to let the words get to me. _"You are like my own personal perfection," _Edward had once said to me. It worried me, how quickly I believed Vicky's thought to be true. I couldn't be his only love. He had to find another person. Someone better…

"Anyway," Vicky said, seeing my absent expression. "Jacob tried to approach me about what he'd seen. He was broken hearted but so was I. I was angry at him for ruining my chances with Edward – I blamed him for Edward's rejection, even though I knew it really wasn't his fault at all. I told Jake to stay away from me – that I was in love with Edward and didn't care about him. I'm guessing you know the next part."

"Jacob getting drunk and thrown off stage for it?" I said. "And then Edward coming along like the white knight of ballet and taking his place?"

"Jacob was furious," she murmured, staring at the dusty floor. "And so betrayed. Edward took his career and me in one day." Vicky looked at me, "And that's all you know?"

I nodded. "Which is why I don't understand how Edward could hate Jacob so much."

"He didn't," she said quietly. "He felt so guilty – we both did. Jacob was our friend and we were responsible for what happened to him. And things only got worse for him. There were discussions with Caius and the other teachers and so much ridicule from the rest of the company. He couldn't escape it."

"How come Alice didn't know about it?" I asked. She had only said that Edward had taken over his role – not anything about the drinking.

Vicky shrugged, "She would have been a First Year. Everyone at Aro's knew about it but that was because Jake was here. And of course it was in the summer that year so all the Third Years had left _Force. _It was only Edward who knew about it, and he wasn't going to embarrass Jacob even more by spreading the news. And everyone was on vacation, anyway."

"So then what happened?" I asked. What could possibly have caused Edward to hate Jacob after the NFSI finished?

"Jacob changed," Vicky said, crossing her arms over her chest as if she was cold. "Edward had taken everything from him and he wanted revenge. He wasn't innocent and baby-faced anymore – it was like something had broken in him." She sighed, "Not that I realized. I was so, so anxious for his forgiveness that I decided I would do anything to make him happy again. We were both spending the rest of the summer in Seattle and so I paid him a visit and started to…well, rekindle our relationship."

I stared at her, "Did you actually want to be with him?"

She shook her head shamefully, "No. But I thought he wanted to be with me and all I wanted was for him to be happy. So we went out. And things got…you know," she gave me a meaningful look. "Deeper."

"Right," I said awkwardly. I was really having _this_ conversation with my teacher?

"And then, a few days later the, uh…" she trailed off, turning her face away from me.

"The what?" I pressed.

Vicky swallowed and picked at her thumbnail. Her voice was barely audible, "The police came round…and charged me with statutory rape."

"Freaking Hell," I scoffed, standing up. "That is ridiculous, Vicky. I shouldn't have listened – "

"It's true," she said, raising her voice slightly. "He was fifteen, I was eighteen. Three years apart – that's the law. Just ask Jacob. I'm sure he won't be able to hide his shock that I've finally told someone what he did."

I just blinked at her, open mouthed, then slowly sat back down. "I don't understand how that is possible," I said shakily. "I don't…he can't have…he wouldn't," I said resolutely. "No one would do that just because someone rejected them."

"For his _best friend," _she stressed. "Bella, you have got to understand that there were only two things in the World that mattered to Jacob – his dancing and the people he loved; me and Edward. We've already established that both those things were destroyed. Think about it, Bella. It's Jacob; his world has been about fixing things for so many years now. 'Getting close to perfection', or whatever it is he says. He thought that getting back at me for hurting him would make the hurt go away."

I shifted on the cold step, trying to cope with the uncomfortable feeling that Vicky might be telling the truth. "Did you go to jail?" I asked quietly.

"No," she replied. "When my parents found out, they refused to be party to any of it. So I called the only person I could."

"Edward," I murmured.

"Edward," she said reverentially. "He was beyond furious. He was as disbelieving as you at first, of course, but it very quickly became apparent to both of us that Jacob had changed and I had been played. That whole time I had been pretending to want to be with him, Jake was pretending to be in love with me so that he could ruin me forever. He didn't care about me. He didn't care about anything but getting revenge." She took a moment, pressing her lips together, battling something. Eventually, she said, "But Edward was there for me. Edward and his father."

"Mister Masen?" I spluttered.

"Anthony," she said with a smile, then glanced at me in my astounded silence, "He's not that bad, really. He does have a moral compass. Edward explained to him that he was partially responsible for what had happened and so Anthony volunteered to be my lawyer, free of charge – which is saying something, considering his law firm's the top in Chicago. He was amazing, truly. He managed to lower it down to a fine instead of county jail."

"On what grounds?"

"He knows the laws back to front," she said. "And he gave Jacob a serious beating when he testified. Everyone could tell that it was unfair." She let out a breath, "Still, statutory rape is statutory rape, and having a criminal record was devastating. I was eighteen. I should have been auditioning for companies."

"But none would accept you with what had happened," I finished, feeling an aching sympathy for her. I looked up at her. "You should be in a company right now, not here."

Vicky nodded soberly, "I'm only twenty-one. I wanted to dance with the Australian Ballet or BC. I didn't want to stay in Seattle, at my own school…but it was the only option open to me. No company would take me as a dancer and no school would take me as a teacher. Anthony pretty much blackmailed Caius into allowing me to teach there, though I have always been so worried that if anyone found out, I would be done for here."

"But you teach Jacob," I realized. "You have to face him every day…"

"Yup," she muttered. "You wondered why I was a little venomous towards him?"

"And why he was so disrespectful to you," I added. I frowned, "Is that why you were so harsh with me at the beginning?"

Vicky flicked me a smile, "No, Bella. I was harsh on you because you were dancing seriously badly. But I was worried when you started spending so much time with Jacob. That was why I tried to put you back into Class C. And then I was just harsh on you because you were turning into a female version of Jacob. No offence," she added wryly.

I sighed, "None taken. I deserve it."

"I might have actually done something more if I'd known you were Edward's ex, not just another Leah."

I bit my lip, "Why would that make a difference?" It was a pointless question – I already knew what she was going to say. I just didn't want to hear it.

Vicky gave me a look, "Bella, Jacob was not just betrayed by me, not in his eyes. He might have ruined my life, but Edward's still always had the upper hand on him…"

"What are you suggesting?"

Vicky took a deep breath, "All I am saying, Bella, is that I find it a bit of a coincidence that Jacob chose Edward's ex-girlfriend to be his partner."

"He chose me because no one else fit," I told her, even as I began to remember the vagueness with which Jacob had answered that question.

"Right," she scoffed. "Because Monsieur Repin's logic would definitely suggest choosing a broken, unhappy, inexperienced, emotionally damaged girl to be his partner?" She shook her head and stood up, stretching out her long legs. "Look, Bella, I'm not saying he's definitely got an agenda. God knows I've misjudged Jacob Black far too many times to be an expert on his motives, but Edward was clearly worried about it – he wouldn't ask me to tell you something this personal if he didn't think it was important."

"Why did he let me tell him to leave, then?" I whispered to myself.

"Because he wanted you to be happy," Vicky said with surprising gentleness.

"I did it to make him happy," I murmured, then let my head hang back, looking up at the stairs above. "It doesn't matter, anyway. Whatever Jacob is or isn't doing, I don't want Edward to have any part in it. I want him to forget about all of this and just try to have the career he deserves."

Vicky pursed her lips, thinking carefully, but then nodded, "I agree, if you really are capable of pushing him away from you then that shows that he's better off without you – maybe he is better off as far away from here as possible."

I nodded and stood up, "Then I guess there's nothing more to say, if our mutual interest in Edward is satisfied."

She grabbed my wrist as I tried to go, "Bella, wait." She fixed me with that authoritative gaze of hers, "What are you going to do about Jacob?"

I considered for a moment – it was a good question. "I'm going to ask him first thing tomorrow," I said finally.

"And you think he's going to give you a straight answer?" Vicky said incredulously.

"I think that I have jumped to too many conclusions about people and their actions recently. Even if I've become a bitch through spending time with him, Jacob picked me up when I was at my lowest point and he deserves the respect of being asked." I looked at Vicky, "I have made so many mistakes now and hurt so many people. If I only define Jacob by his past, how can I expect people to do any different to me?"

"You really think he's changed?" she said.

"He was fifteen then, Vicky. And even if he saw me as Edward's ex at the beginning, there's no saying that those feelings haven't changed." I remembered his tenderness tonight. He had looked at me like he truly wanted to forget Edward. "He has always been honest with me about his hatred towards Edward. He's always been honest with me about how he wants revenge on Edward, even if he didn't explain the full story to me. I always knew that he felt Edward had betrayed him."

"But now you know how far Jacob is willing to go!" Vicky exclaimed, getting agitated. "I mean, he almost put me in _jail!"_

"I know," I said, trying to stay calm. "But I just want to ask him."

"He'll lie to you, Bella," she said, gripping my hand. "He'll just drag you in again and then one day he'll betray you and you will end up hurt and alone."

I pulled my hand away, "What happened to you doesn't have to happen to me, Vicky."

She opened her mouth to retort but then seemed to think better of it. Instead, she turned away, pushing her hair off her face. She rested her hands on her hips, as if she was trying to catch her breath. "Alright," she said eventually, turning back to me. Her eyes were resolved, "Talk to him. Just don't tell him that Edward's gone."

"Too late," I said.

"Shit!" Vicky cursed, then huffed, "Well I guess we're just going to have to find out the hard way."

I watched her stalk back up the stairs. What had she meant? Did I even have the energy to care?

As I heard the door swing shut above me, I tiredly began my ascent, climbing all the way up to my floor. As I came out into the corridor, I saw Seth and Amanda leaning against the wall, Seth seething.

"I don't get why he can't just leave me alone," he was whispering. "I'm not interested – doesn't he understand that – "

Seth cut off, seeing me standing there. "Can I help, Bella?" he snapped, but then seemed to recoil. "Sorry," he muttered. It reminded me of my first day at Aro's – he had been kind to me.

I looked at him sadly, "You're letting your pride get in the way of how you feel about him."

"I'm not gay," Seth hissed.

I shrugged and headed down the corridor, away from them. I was too tired to argue.

When I knocked on my door, it opened immediately. Rosalie, Emmett and Jasper were all there with Alice, worry dormant on their faces.

"Have you seen Edward?" Emmett demanded, "We haven't seen him since class and he isn't returning my calls and all his stuff is gone."

I closed my eyes and leaned against the doorway, feeling the pain wash over me all over again. "Edward's gone," I said quietly, pressing my forehead against the cold wooden frame. "He's flying to London in the morning."

"What?" Jasper said, his arm tightening around Alice's waist.

"He would say goodbye," Rosalie snapped. "He wouldn't just go."

"Is this what you meant?" Alice whispered, looking at me through teary eyes. "When you asked me what choice I'd make?"

Silently, I nodded.

"He's gone, then," she said weakly, sitting down on her bed. Jasper gently tucked her head into his chest.

"Why?" Emmett asked me hopelessly, looking like a sad schoolboy in a weight lifter's body.

"Because I told him to," I said, my voice cracking. The tears began to flood out. "I told him to," I repeated, pressing a hand to my mouth, the enormity of everything suddenly becoming too much.

But then I felt Emmett's strong arm around my shoulders, and Alice's gentle hands as he sat me down next to her. I rested my head on her shoulder, feeling the comfortable weight of my friends all around me. I had treated them so badly, but that didn't matter to them. They cried with me and sat with me until the sounds of the city quietened. Until all my tears had been shed and my mind finally surrendered to sleep.

I dreamt of him. It wasn't a happy dream. It didn't let me sink into a world where he was with me and everything was right. No. Instead, I watched him through a pane of glass as he rehearsed Swan Lake, all alone in a dark studio. It was our studio, at _Force, _where we had danced to _Clair de Lune _and forgotten all our worries. But there was no moonlight tonight. He moved with the music, his t-shirt rippling as he leapt, landing silently on the wooden floor. His face was blank. His jaw set, his eyes unyielding. If anything, they were haunted. Absent of life because his mind was elsewhere, absorbed in a thought. That thought was more than sad, though. It was beyond despair. Beyond everything.

I tried to speak. Nothing came out. He kept going, forever trapped. I slammed my hand against the glass, but there was no way to tell him what I needed to tell him. There was no way to make that look in his eyes go away. I was gone from him and he from me. It was impossible.

I hadn't set my phone alarm. I woke up to the creak of a floorboard as Alice tiptoed to her suitcase.

"Thank you for last night," I said quietly.

She turned, giving me a little smile, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I'm not going to feel better for a very long time." I slipped out from under the sheets and picked up my phone. There was a message from Jacob, from last night; _Goodnight, Bella. I love you._

I swallowed and grabbed my towel, trying to escape from those three words.

I spent a while under the hot water of the shower, as if it could wash away more than sweat and tears. I let the steam wrap around me like a blanket, hiding me from what I had to face today. Jacob. The World. My first day without Edward. I wondered when his flight was leaving. I wondered if he was thinking of me. The answer to the latter was simple – I knew he was. I knew he would not move on easily. But I prayed that Vicky was right – that he was better off away from me and that he would one day find someone else.

I got dressed into a long sleeved red leo, even though I didn't feel like being a Royal today. Meanwhile, Alice was pulling on a fuchsia leotard with a keyhole neckline. "Edward's departure doesn't mean bad fashion," she informed me with a smile and threw me a long white cardigan. I pulled on a pair of jeans and gratefully put the cardigan over my leo.

"Thanks, Alice," I said.

She shrugged, "I am a fashion Goddess, I know."

"For everything," I added with a grin. Only Alice could actually make me smile on a day like this. Outside, even the sky was grey.

But the grin soon vanished as I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed up to Jacob's room. Nerves thrummed in the pit of my stomach. How was I meant to phrase this? 'Vicky told me everything and I just want to know if you're planning on putting me in jail, too' didn't have a good ring to it. Even with Jacob's temper and hatred toward Edward, the ideas that Vicky were unfathomable. _And probably not true, _I thought as I counted down the door numbers. Jacob had saved me. He had taught me so much. He had been so patient with me and believed in me. But, what's more, his words last night had been so sincere.

We had had ups and downs, and I was certainly not over Edward, but Jacob and I were a partnership.

It was with that thought that I knocked on Jacob's door.

"Come in," came a mumble from inside. I frowned and opened it to find Gerry sitting on his bed, his arms hugging his knees. Jacob was nowhere to be found.

"Where's Jacob?" I asked.

"Rehearsing, probably – as usual."

"Thanks," I said. I was almost out the door when Gerry stopped me.

"Wait," he said quickly. "Bella, I, um…"

I turned back around. I swore I could see a tear slip into his beard.

"Gerry," I said, taking a step towards him. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he muttered, quickly covering it with a hand.

I sighed and came to sit next to him. He gave me a nervous look and I returned it with tired patience. "Seth's an ass," I said bluntly.

"You said he liked me," he replied. "You shouldn't have gotten my hopes up."

I shook my head, "I'm sorry if I was wrong, Gerry, but I don't think I am."

"Then why does he keep on saying he's not even…you know…"

"Because he's probably trying to keep it a secret, like you were before Jacob ousted you."

"I forgot he did that," Gerry said, scratching his beard absentmindedly. "But why wouldn't Seth just accept it once it came out?"

I shrugged, "You don't know what his family's like or what he's gone through in the past. People keep secrets for a lot of reasons," like my stupid concealing of my scholarship to Aro's. "Even if those reasons hurt other people." I elbowed him, "Not all of us have your incredible wit and intelligence."

He gave me a much more Gerry-like look, "I don't feel very intelligent. I feel like I'm just not worthy of him or something. Like I'm not good enough for him."

I frowned and shook my head, "No, Gerry. It's the other way around. If he doesn't see what he's doing to you and what he's missing out on, then he doesn't deserve you. There are plenty more fish in the sea."

He raised an eyebrow, "Not so many for gay guys."

I smiled and put a hand on his arm, "Gerry, come on. You are a ballet dancer. Half of male dancers are gay – you are going to be spoilt for choice."

He quirked his lips to one side, a light in his eyes, and covered my hand with his, "Really?"

I rolled my eyes, "Of course, you crazy boy."

"I should have been nicer to you at the beginning," Gerry admitted. "I was a dick."

"Worse things have been done," I replied quietly. "The First Year girls at _Force _once dumped all their footbaths into my trunk."

"Nasty," he said, making a face. But then his expression suddenly became serious. He looked me up and down, "Bella, you should find Jacob. He's at the theatre."

"Okay," I said, my nerves returning to me.

Gerry wordlessly gave my hand a squeeze as I stood up. "Hurry," he said as I pushed out the door.

I shivered as I walked, thinking of what I had said to Gerry. I had used the same advice for myself with Edward. He too had deserved better than me.

The lobby was full of NFSI students, making their way to the tiny hotel restaurant for breakfast. "Bella!" I heard someone call over the clamour of thirty hungry dancers.

I turned around. Leah, of all people, was fighting her way toward me, elegantly elbowing one guy in the gut to get to me. "Going somewhere?" she asked, flicking her layered hair away from her eyes.

"I don't see how that's any of your business, Leah," I said with a curt smile.

She snorted and folded her arms, "Wow. So kind. I'm just trying to look out for our mutual little blonde friend."

I frowned, "Lauren?"

"Yup," she said, popping the 'p'. She raised her eyebrows, "Interested?"

"What about her?"

"She's really unhappy about something or other and she won't come out of her room."

"Well have you told Carlisle?" I asked. "He's the one looking after her."

"Actually, Edward seemed to be taking care of her but he's disappeared," Leah shrugged, "Any ideas where he's gone?"

I sighed and pushed a hand through my hair, forgetting it was up in a bun, "What's her room number?"

"Oh I can't remember," Leah said tragically. "Why don't we go ask?"

I felt like I was turning into some kind of counsellor as Leah and I awkwardly stood in the lift. She kept on glancing at her phone clock. "Somewhere to be?" I asked.

She looked at me with those impenetrable eyes, "Not really. You?"

"Rehearsal," I said stonily.

"You guys rehearse too much anyway."

"I think this rehearsal was quite urgent," I continued. "Gerry told me to hurry."

"Gerry?" Leah said stiffly. "Well, he's always been anxious."

"Lauren better be there, Leah."

And she was there, sitting resolutely on her bed. "Oh yay," she said when I entered. "Quality time with Bella."

"You seem fine," I said, leaning against the wall. "Are you?"

Lauren just gave me a sarcastic smile and stood up to pack her dance bag.

"And how's Ben?" I inquired politely.

"What does that guy have to do with this?" Leah said, folding her arms again.

"Well," I said calmly, folding my arms in the same manner. "He is of course your boyfriend, Lauren. A guy who is probably the kindest and most caring person in the World, who would definitely be wondering why you and your dear friend Leah, who I am sorely regretting introducing you to, and Gerry are all trying to stop me from getting to my rehearsal with Jacob."

Lauren stared at me. Leah was silent.

"Great," I said. "So I guessed right."

"Actually," Leah said, looking at her phone again. "We weren't trying to _stop _you." She snapped it shut, and looked at me with a smile, "Have a good rehearsal, Bella."

"Give Vicky my regards," I said and charged back out of the room. Of course – Vicky. She hadn't wanted me to talk to Jacob and who better to stop me than two of her favourite students?

I wanted to track her down and give her a piece of my mind, but I knew that it was more pressing to get to Jacob. Was all that she had told me a lie? Was that why she didn't want me to question Jacob? Was there something more?

The lobby was empty now, with loud conversation pouring out of the restaurant. I pushed through the revolving door and out onto the street. The heavens had opened up, the sky a dark grey. Rain ricocheted off the wet pavement and cars shot past, spraying frigid water onto the curb. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out from under the hotel awning and started to run.

The wind thrashed at me and tugged at my bun. Alice's cardigan might have been fashionable but it wasn't exactly waterproof. Soon, it was saturated. But I didn't care. Something was up. Something with a definite time limit, which, by Leah's parting words, I had probably already missed. But that wasn't going to stop me and neither was the rain.

It seemed to take forever before I saw the throne of the Civic Theatre approaching. The rain lashed in my face, dripping from my lashes and into my eyes. Finally, I reached the shelter of the huge stone columns of the entrance. I put my hand against one of them, breathing heavily.

A shiny silver Mercedes smoothly pulled up against the curb. The door opened. First, a crutch came out, and then, in a perfectly tailored black suit, Anthony Masen climbed out, wincing as he stood upright.

"Mister Masen?" I breathed.

He turned and looked me up and down, then gave me a short smile. "Bella," he said. "May I call you that?"

"Sure…" I replied confusedly. "I'm sorry, sir, but…shouldn't you be in hospital?"

Mister Masen waved my words away with his free hand, "No, no. I discharged myself this morning. No point in missing a perfectly good day just to lie in bed."

His good-natured tone confused me, as did the way he looked at me – where was the distastefulness of our two previous meetings?

"Right," I said eventually, with a distracted smile. This was getting increasingly awkward. "Well, I'm, uh, kinda late for rehearsal, so…"

"Of course," Mister Masen said. "May I walk you in?"

He had Edward's manners. Except now, for some reason, he had decided to use them on me. I nodded cautiously and then offered my arm for him to take.

"Thank you," he said. He really shouldn't have been out of hospital, I realized as we slowly walked into the spacious foyer. "I wanted to apologize, Bella, for yesterday."

"That's okay," I said immediately, my voice echoing around the high walls. I could hear the music from the Balcony Scene coming through from the theatre. "I shouldn't have been there and you were having a stressful time."

"My actions were unacceptable, Bella – I think you know that," he gave me a sideways glance, taking in my uncomfortable expression as I opened the door for him. The recorded orchestra became louder. He chuckled, stepping through, "I'm a very blunt person."

_Don't I know it, _I thought, then looked across the thousands of seats to the stage.

There was Jacob, in his red V-neck and black tights, performing his great tour of leaps around the stage, glorious in the precision of each landing. He ended in the centre with a flourish, down on one knee, facing the staircase.

Tanya emerged at the top and lightly ran down the steps, a pale gold skirt trailing behind her. In a second, she had leapt from the last step and into Jacob's waiting arms and together, they began the pas de deux.

_Our_ pas de deux.

* * *

><p><strong>Thoughts? Opinions? Expectations? Predictions? Hatred?<strong>

**From Vicky's story to Gerry to Leah and Lauren to Mister Masen and now...well, who knows what with Jacob? - please do comment!**

**Next update will be up as soon as possible, though a Christmas cake needs baking and I have a performance tomorrow...which I completely forgot about...oops...**

**Thanks again for reading and reviewing! Hope you enjoyed!**


	41. Chapter 41

Hello all!

I am so, so sorry for the lateness of my update! Between performances, Christmas and a trip to Paris (amazing!) and really bad writer's block (kind of surprising as it's one of the only chapters where I knew exactly what was going to be said for a year beforehand), it was been too hard to get this chapter finished!

Still, here we are! Thank goodness!

**Thanks to all who reviewed! I really am sorry for the wait so thank you very much for your patience and encouragement. And those who came to my defense :)**

Hope you enjoy and please let me know your thoughts!

* * *

><p><em>Bones - MS MR (such a different piece in a world of overtly repetitive mainstream music! And I heard it on Reign...because I'm addicted...)<em>

_The White Tree - LOTR, Howard Shore (still haven't seen the Hobbit...)_

_Carol of the Bells - Westminster Choir (such a creepy carol)_

_Waltz of the Blue Danube - Johann Strauss (when you read this chapter, you'll wonder how on earth it fits. Of course, it doesn't but there's only so many times I can listen to my 'sad' playlist. Any suggestions are welcome!)_

* * *

><p>"Excuse me, Mister Masen," I said quietly, and marched down the aisle to the sound desk. I was about to rip the cord from Tanya's gold-studded iPod when a voice came from behind me.<p>

"Don't be childish, Bella," said Helen. I turned, part of me not even surprised as I took in her curt smile and cold eyes, complimented by her fitted charcoal business suit and black heels.

"What is Tanya doing up there?" I demanded, pointing a finger at the gold figure prancing about on stage, looking like a tacky Christmas decoration.

"You weren't suited to the role," Helen said. "And we thought it was time for a change."

"Carlisle wouldn't agree to this."

She smiled and shook her head, "Carlisle is the director and I have allowed him to steer the show the way he wanted. But now he has clearly steered it into the ground and it is time for me to pull rank."

"You think Tanya's better than me?" I said shakily.

"I think you're a liability, just like Edward. Your ridiculous display last night proved that."

"The audience liked it."

Helen gave me a pointed look, "The audience doesn't know what they're seeing. My decision is final, Bella – you're cut."

"No," I said through gritted teeth. "Jacob won't stand for this." I pushed past her and charged up the stage steps. They were into the lift section – Tanya was flinging herself into his arms. He held her above his head, his eyes focused on her. "Keep your torso upright," he said.

Tanya rolled her eyes, "My torso's fine."

"Jacob!" I called over the crescendoing music. Tanya gasped in overjoyed surprise as she looked down on me from high in the air.

"Bella, you made it!"

"Of course I did," I said through gritted teeth as Jacob steadily brought her down, his eyes carefully fixed on the stage floor. "It's my rehearsal."

The music switched off. "Ten minutes, kids!" Helen yelled from the stalls and stalked off somewhere.

As Tanya stepped away, Jacob finally looked up at me, his expression cool and unattached, "I think what Tanya is trying to say is that this is a closed rehearsal, Bella. You should go."

I stared at him. He didn't budge. He didn't waver. He stood there, hands resting loosely on his hips, and looked at me almost as if he didn't know me.

"I'm not going anywhere," I said, folding my arms resolutely, even though I felt myself shaking. "This is my role and I should be dancing it."

Jacob sighed, "Be professional about this, Bella. Don't make a big deal of it."

"Unlikely," Tanya sniggered, examining the seam of her skirt.

I ignored her and stepped closer to Jacob, looking at him cautiously. "Jacob," I said softly. "What's going on?"

The flicker of a smirk touched his lips but then quickly vanished, his expression cold once more, "We knew this could happen, Bella. You can't really blame them – you haven't been bringing them standing ovations."

"What happened to 'us'?" I demanded. "We agreed to be a team on this. And we were getting there! Last night – "

"Last night was a fluke," Jacob said calmly.

"And what about our conversation afterwards? What about everything you said to me?"

"You were upset," he said. "You'd had a long day."

"_I _was upset?" I repeated. "You were furious with me! But then I thought we worked things out. Or have you totally forgotten that you told me you _loved _me?"

"Ooo," Tanya whistled from behind me. "Cruel blow."

Jacob sighed and glanced at his watch. "Alright, Bella," he said, looking back up at me. "I think you're a bit tired. You should go and sleep." He put a hand on my shoulder.

"Get off me!" I snapped, pushing it off. "Don't you dare – " I froze, staring at the watch on his left wrist. He never wore his watch when he was rehearsing. No one did. Jewellery could catch on costumes and get in the way of movements. Jacob was no exception to the rule. Until now.

I grabbed his wrist, looking at the shining hands of his Rolex. "What's so important about eleven thirty?" I asked.

"We should rehearse," Tanya said abruptly.

Jacob pulled his hand away, looking at me levelly, challenge in his eyes.

I returned his gaze evenly. "It wasn't Vicky who told Leah and Gerry to waylay me, was it?"

He said nothing.

"Tell me," I said quietly. "Why didn't you want me here until now?"

Jacob's gaze never faltered. A smirk slowly crept onto his lips, "There's only one direct flight to London today. And it's just taken off. So Edward's gone and there is no way you can tell him to come back and save you."

"Save me?" I felt my blood run cold.

"I've won, Bella," Jacob said, satisfaction dripping from his voice. "I have achieved my goal and you are no longer of any use to me. You've been replaced here and your scholarship to Aro's has been cancelled."

"What?" I exclaimed. "On what grounds?"

He smiled, "Bad behaviour, extensive truancy from class, rudeness toward teachers – take your pick; you did that all by yourself."

"You did the same! And worse!"

Jacob shrugged, "I'm not the one on scholarship."

"Caius won't – "

"Caius was the one to do it," he cut in. "Just like he backed up Helen in her decision to replace you with Tanya."

Of course – he had been right behind her in the discussion at the airport. And he had never cared about me. He just wanted his best student to succeed so he could beat Carlisle. "Then why did he bother giving me the scholarship in the first place?"

Jacob stretched his arms above his head, saying simply, "Because I asked him to."

I shut my eyes, the World seeming to collapse in on me. Vicky had been right. Edward had been right. "How did you know about me?" I asked quietly.

"I went to the Review," he said. "We all did. And I was intrigued when Edward ran on stage to save you and your awful performance."

"You flatter," I muttered.

Jacob smirked, "It was that impromptu pas de deux that made me finally work out Edward's weakness." I flinched as he tapped me patronizingly on the nose. "You."

"Don't touch me!" I snapped, slapping his hand away.

The smirk stayed. "Whatever. Anyway, I had finally found a way to ruin Edward – take you away from him." He sighed, "But, of course, I had no clue of how to do it."

"Jacob," Tanya said quickly, pulling on his arm. "We're wasting time. We have a performance tonight."

He didn't look at her as he pulled his arm away, smile fixed on his face, "But then who would come knocking on my door but the great Tanya Denali, fresh from the chopping block at _Force."_

I stared at that glittery-eyed girl. We never had found out what she had been doing in the month before she made her return to _Force._

"Jacob," she hissed. "This wasn't part of the plan."

"Enjoy the victory speech, Tanya," he advised. "Or is this not what you wanted?"

Tanya's lips twisted shrewdly as she looked at me, "True. I guess you don't remember my last words to you that night, do you?"

I did, actually. I wasn't likely to forget anything about that night, least of all the explosive argument we had had in the corridor afterwards. Edward and I had stood against her and she had stormed off, spitting out, _"You will fail. And I will win. In the end."_

Her sickly-sweet smile crept to her lips now as she saw my expression, "And now it's come true. You've failed and I am Juliet and you are nothing."

"You still don't have the partner you want," I said. "And you know that Edward will never want you after what you did to me at the Review."

Jacob's smirk faltered a little at that, as did Tanya's smile. So I had hit a sore spot…

"Don't avoid the truth," she said stiffly, grappling to regain lost ground. "I have won."

"Tanya came to me and told me a very interesting little piece of information," Jacob continued.

"I had come in to hear Carlisle final lecture and unenrol," said Tanya, recovered. She delicately rose onto her pointes and back down, her hands behind her back, looking like the princess of innocence. "And guess what I heard through the door? That Mama Swan couldn't afford for Baby Swan to attend _Force _anymore. Carlisle promised to get you a scholarship but of course I couldn't have that."

She sighed and looked at Jacob, "And of course I knew that there was only one person who is as sneaky and devious as me. You wanted Bella, I wanted her gone." She looked at me sweetly, "It was the perfect trade."

"You're both as pathetic as each other," I muttered. "So what next? Threatening Carlisle at gunpoint?"

Jacob smirked, "Far better. There was no need for threatening. You know it's not Carlisle who chooses scholarships – it's the board."

"And who is on the board?" Tanya said excitedly. "Anthony Masen!"

"Edward's own father," Jacob said quietly, looking so pleased with himself that I felt nauseous.

I felt my heart sink a little further. Anthony Masen had been the one to refuse my scholarship? It had been his fault that I had had to leave _Force _and Edward behind? I looked out into the auditorium but he wasn't where I had left him.

"He really didn't like you," said Tanya. "But he really liked me for Edward and he used his influence to boot you out and get me back in."

Jacob folded his arms, "Leaving you with no choice but to accept the scholarship to Aro's that I'd organised."

"And that kiss?" I asked darkly. "All part of the master plan?"

She smiled, "Lauren Mallory can be terribly helpful when she thinks she's got Edward's best interests at heart."

"Lauren?"

"She was kind enough to text me when you were approaching," said Tanya. "Which helped me ensure that you wouldn't try and wriggle your way back in to Edward's life – that you wouldn't want to."

"You're smarter than I give you credit for," Jacob said mildly, giving her a sideways glance.

"Adorable," I muttered. "Do I also have yet to learn that you two have been together this whole time, as well?"

"No," Jacob snorted. "She's not my type."

"And you're just a prat," Tanya chimed.

"But you weren't my type, either, Bella," said Jacob. "Leah's more in my league."

I nodded, "I was just Edward's sad, broken ex." Every suspicion Vicky had had was right. My blood now boiled, "You exploited my sadness," I whispered, sickened with him. "You used my unhappiness to make me yours."

"Yes, I wanted you to be mine so that I could ruin Edward's happiness and your fragile state made it very easy to turn you against him but it was your choice to follow," Jacob said. "You didn't have to accept my offer of teaching you. You didn't have to start kissing me or going all soppy. That was all you."

"You encouraged me," I seethed. "Right from the beginning. All your friends were so mean to me that I had no one else to turn to but you. The only way to save my dancing was through you. I was completely at your mercy."

"Again," he said. "Your fault for not being a good enough dancer. I have to admit, after Vicky decided to drop you once and for all, I almost gave up on my plans to make you my partner."

"But I'm a good kisser?" I snapped, remembering how furious he had been when I'd found him after my failed class. I had been so stupidly dependent on him that I had never even thought of the real justification of his anger. No, I had just gotten angry and made out with him and decided that it was all Edward's fault.

"No," Jacob said, "Though I will say that every little touch from you made me feel that bit more satisfied that Edward was missing the same treatment."

I blanched, "That kiss!" _Oh, you bastard! _"The kiss backstage when Edward was performing his pas de deux – that was just so that he would see that we were together and screw up? So that you could get Romeo?"

He smiled, looking up at the light rigging, "Edward can always be relied upon to overreact."

"Says the guy who almost put the girl he loved in jail," I said.

Jacob looked at me, badly disguising the surprise in his eyes, "Edward told you?"

"Vicky told me," I said. "And she warned me about you but I didn't listen because I thought you deserved my trust after all that you had done for me. Now I realize that everything you did for me has been for you and your twisted morals."

"Wait, what is this about?" Tanya demanded.

"Nothing," I said quickly, realizing I shouldn't have mentioned it – it was Vicky's secret. "But you disgust me, Jacob. You don't even have enough faith in your dancing to beat him fairly. What was the point in even teaching me and rehearsing so hard if you were always going to cheat?"

"I did it to secure my place as Romeo," said Jacob. He looked away distastefully. "I only taught you so that you could be my partner for the audition and screw up Edward's performance. Carlisle choosing you as Juliet was a surprise."

"A problem," Tanya corrected sternly.

Jacob smirked, "I promised you that Bella would leave _Force, _Tanya,not that we would be partners." He turned back to me, "Besides, as soon as Edward arrived it became fairly clear that, left to your own devices, you would end up crawling back to him like they all do. It was important to keep you close." He gazed at me calculatingly, "And even with you as my partner and 'girlfriend', you still kept on getting closer to him, didn't you?"

I glared at him, "Well, you just couldn't help but show your true colours sometimes, could you? Your frustration with me? Edward actually cared."

Jacob nodded, "It's true – your underperformance every night was becoming embarrassing. You were ruining my role. And last night was the last straw, for Helen as well as me."

"Then why did you spout out all that drivel about loving me?" I asked. "And why did it sound so sincere?"

"I'm a very good actor," he said mildly. "And I thought you were going to Edward for good – you're incapable of staying away from him. And I knew that if the two of you banded together, with Carlisle backing you, I could lose everything. So I brought out all that mushy crap that I knew would make you want to be with me. Of course, when you told me that Edward was leaving, I realized I could finally achieve my goal, so long as I could keep you from finding out about the casting change until now."

I shook my head, "I don't understand you, Jacob Black. You have done all this so that you can be lead over Edward in a two week production. Don't you realize that Edward is flying to London to be lead in the _Royal Ballet? _That is far more prestigious than a role in the NFSI. He's beaten you." I felt a little triumph stir in me. "He has beaten you and you've made so sure that he's gone that there is no way you can stop him." I took a step toward him, staring into those lying brown eyes, "He is going to become far more famous than any of us. He is going to succeed because he is a beautiful, amazing dancer. I don't care that you've hurt me. I don't even care that you undeservingly have this role. So long as Edward is happy."

Jacob just looked at me, eyebrows raised. And then a laugh bubbled to his lips. He stood there, laughing at me. I stared at him, startled. "Oh, Bella," he chuckled. "Could you really be more gullible? I told you; you are his weakness. He might have gone to the Royal Ballet but do you really think he will be able to dance the way he wants to after everything you have put him through? He is so reliant on his emotions that the damage you have caused will mean he will never reach his standards again. And even if the Royal Ballet doesn't see it, he will. He might say he's not a perfectionist like me but he knows his capabilities and it will torment him that he cannot reach them."

"Edward will get over me," I said. "And if he doesn't then…" I shut my eyes. "Then he will come home. And I will be here for him and he will find work with another company – anyone would take him."

"Except that he's already given them his contract," Jacob said. "And if he pulls out then he will not only be breaching that contract, he will be making one of the top companies in the World _very _unhappy. You don't exactly hear much of Sergei Polunin these days, do you? Unless you consider the odd dance in a musical a success."

I swallowed – he had a point. Polunin had been a young principal with the Royal Ballet – their youngest ever, until Edward – but he had resigned suddenly and hadn't since been seen in any major company as a permanent artist since. Directors were afraid to commit to him when they weren't sure he would commit to them. Jacob was right – Edward could just as easily end up in the same position if he pulled out now.

I tried not to show Jacob how my heart was slowly dying. "You're a bastard," I whispered venomously.

He smiled, "No, Bella. I'm just repaying Edward with the same love and respect that he paid me three years ago. He took Vicky from me, so I've taken you away from him. He made me a laughing stock for every audience and ballet director to see, so now I've ruined his career. I think it's fair."

"This isn't over," I snapped. "I'll go to Carlisle and anyone who will listen and I will tell them what you've done."

"They won't believe you – not without Vicky's story to back you up. Besides, they'll just assume that you're playing the jealous, immature understudy."

I stared at him. I looked at the boy that I had so desperately wanted to love and be loved by. I remembered his first day back, when he had spared me a glance, even amongst his friends – my 'salvation from the beginning'. I remembered when he had held my hands and helped me perform the penche which brought back so many memories of Edward. I should have realized that he didn't care when he yelled at me about crying over it later. But in those early days at Aro's, I had clung to him like a child – he held me above the pain. I had yearned for his praise and was so ecstatic when I received it. I had only wanted his company – his infectious smirk and jokes and his unwavering belief in himself.

It was like that person had never existed, looking at him now.

"Was any of it real?" I whispered.

Jacob smirked – how had I not seen the malice in it before? – "I liked it when you burnt that photo of you and Edward but apart from that, no."

I just nodded.

"Now!" Tanya said, clapping her hands together. "If Jacob's finished with his victory speech, would you mind leaving?" She gracefully went to the centre of the stage and got into position for the first lift, blinking sweetly at me. "We have a very important show to prepare for."

"Of course," I said quietly, looking between the two of them. "I hope you both enjoy yourselves."

"Don't be too upset, Bella," Jacob advised. I shivered as he put his hand on my shoulder. He looked at me with something that could almost be affection, "You were only collateral damage, really." He stepped back and went to stand behind Tanya, tucking one leg behind him and carefully lining himself up with her, "Not your fault you decided to date the wrong guy."

The music flicked on, stopping any retort I might have given. I turned away from the dancing couple and went slowly down the steps. Every limb in my body was tense. My fists were clenched tight, my nails digging into my palms. My heart beat was steady. My shoes touched the red carpet of the aisle. I sped up. I walked faster and faster until I was practically running out of the theatre, my breathing hard, my mind so loud it was almost silent. I didn't know what I was thinking. But, as I charged past the rows and rows of plush seats, my intent revealed itself. I was going to get payback. I was going to ruin him. And no one was going to stop me.

Until I stepped into the bright foyer.

"Miss Swan." Anthony rose painfully from one of the benches by the theatre doors.

"I have nothing to say to you," I spat, not stopping.

"Please!" he called, taking a forced step forward.

I swung round to face him, my voice ringing through the voluminous room, "You should be ashamed of yourself. Your son was so worried about you last night but it's clear you don't give a crap about him – you just want him to be what your wife could never be because of you."

"He said that?" Mister Masen said weakly.

I just gave him a sickened look and kept going.

"I'm sorry!" he exclaimed as I opened the door. The downpour became louder, echoing through the foyer. "You're right – I wanted him to have a better partner so he could get the success my wife never had. I thought he would be better with Tanya but clearly I made a mistake."

I stared down at the marble floor, my hand still on the door handle, "Well, _clearly_ you're too late. Well done."

"Not necessarily," he said. I could hear his laboured breathing. "Please, Bella. Let me explain myself."

I looked back at him, "Nothing you could possibly say would make what you've done right."

"Please," he rasped. His face was so pale that it was almost like chalk.

Sighing, I let the door swing shut, "Sit down." I wasn't exactly one for bossing around high powered lawyers, but I was beyond caring about people who stabbed me in the back.

I stood in front of him, arms folded, and awaited his explanation.

"Tanya called me and told me that she would be willing to come back if I ensured you were leaving." He looked at me with tired eyes, "I had no idea Jacob was behind it and I didn't think you were good for Edward – he missed the US Ballet audition because of you and – "

"I get it," I snapped. "You thought I was crap. You made that very clear when you burst into my exam."

"I thought I had done the right thing," said Mister Masen. "Particularly when I found out you'd kept your scholarship to Aro's from Edward."

I came him a bitter smile, "A minor transgression, now that I know what you and everyone else is capable of."

He nodded, "But you must understand that as soon as you left my hospital room last night, I realized what a terrible mistake I had made."

Wincing in pain, he reached into his suit pocket. He opened his hand to reveal my ring, glinting in his palm. "Edward never told you where he got this ring from." He cleared his throat, just as mesmerized by the ring as I had been. He gently traced it with his finger as he spoke, "I bought this for Elizabeth after I first saw her dancing at the Met. She would tape it up and wear it in every performance."

"It was Edward's mother's?" I realized. "He never said…except that it didn't cost him anything."

Mister Masen nodded, "It's a very important ring, both to him and to me." He took a deep breath, "I might not be the best at reading my son, Bella, but I do know that he keeps what he loves very close to his heart. For him to give this to you means that he has very real, very deep feelings for you. He knows how much I cared for his mother – he knows what this ring meant to us." He looked at me, his emerald eyes sincere, "I should never have come between you. I thought it was a passing fancy but it is so much more, isn't it?"

I stared at the little sapphires, so perfect, surrounded by carved silver. My heart ached. "But it doesn't matter now," I said quietly. "Everything has changed since he gave me this." I looked away, up at the long, ornate chandeliers suspended from the ceiling. "I've changed. After all that I've done, even if it has turned out to be Jacob's fault, Edward deserves better. I'm not worth losing his career over."

"Even if his dancing isn't the same without you?"

I shook my head, "Edward is smart. And he is too talented." I swallowed and tried to keep going, "He will find a way to dance without me. And even if we could be partners, I can't dance like I used to. I'm ruined. I can't be the partner he needs."

Mister Masen reached out, covering my hand with his own, "You're missing the point, Miss Swan."

I looked at him. He gave me a gentle smile, "We have all been so wrapped up in the World of dance that we forget real life, Bella. This ring has nothing to do with ballet or partners or anything like that. It's about love and how it transcends everything else. There is nothing more important than love. Elizabeth gave up her career for me and Edward and I know that she would have done it a thousand times over because the people you love are the only things that matter at the end of the day."

"Edward won't be happy without dance," I whispered.

He shook his head, "Bella, I saw him last night after you left. He won't be happy without you. There will always be a company to accept him, even if it's not the Royal, but you are irreplaceable. So if you love him, and I think you do, then you should let him know before it's too late." He turned my hand over and placed the ring in my palm, fixing me with a wise stare, "Make this decision as a young woman, not as a dancer."

"But it is too late," I said desperately. "He's already on the plane."

Mister Masen smiled and looked out the tall windows, "Have you not seen the weather, Miss Swan?"

* * *

><p><strong>I am going to start the next chapter as soon as this is posted so please review as I write and keep me on task! So curious to hear your opinions on Jacob, Tanya and Mister Masen! Should Edward's father be forgiven? Should Bella really run after Edward? Will she even make it? And, of course, did you expect and accept Jacob's story? Can he really be so horrible?<strong>

In reply to one particular review on the subject of reviews: no, I do not and never have waited for a certain number of reviews to post. I use those numbers and what they say to gauge how my story is going and I can't stand any fanfic writer who does demand a certain number before posting - it defeats the purpose of reviewing. I post as soon as the chapter is finished :)

Happy Holidays, everyone, and thanks for reading!


	42. Chapter 42

HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM ENGLAND!

I hope you have a lovely 2014, filled with plenty of happiness and fun and excitement!

My new year's resolution: write something publishable :)

**Thank you so much for the amazing amount of reviews I've received - your opinions on our dear characters have been so interesting and funny and helpful to read!**

**Hopefully you're not too full on champagne and mince pies (though I actually found myself with a cup of tea and too many chocolates this year) to send another for this chapter!**

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

><p><em>Isle of Hope, Isle of Tears - The Celtic Tenors<em>

_Life for Rent, Here With Me - Dido_

_Fare thee well, love - The Celtic Tenors_

_Somewhere Only We Know - Lily Allen (ah, the Christmas John Lewis ad...)_

_Caledonia - Celtic Woman and also the Celtic Tenors (yeah - in a bit of a celtic mood)_

_All of Me - John Legend_

_Liar and the Lighter - Gabrielle Aplin_

* * *

><p>The rain flew into the windscreen of Mister Masen's car so hard that I couldn't hear anything else, let alone the soft hum of the engine. That he had entrusted his Mercedes to me was an utter surprise, though from the way he had looked as I ran out into the storm, he was clearly in no state to drive. A calm automated voice on the GPS navigated me through the labyrinth of Chicago. I had no idea where I was going, just that my heart was thudding and I wished that the cars and busses and bikes ahead of me would just clear off. The weather might have delayed things but Mister Masen had warned me that flights would still be taking off. Thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance.<p>

I hit the accelerator as I came onto the motorway, the rain drops stretching on the windows and flying back off just as others hit. Edward had to be there. If he wasn't then I didn't know what I would do. I had my card in my wallet – I could get on the next flight to London on the remnants of my college fund. But what then? Burst into the Royal Ballet and demand that they give me him back? It was a ridiculous notion…

But I couldn't lose him. Not now. I looked at my pinkie finger on the steering wheel. The cool silver pressed against my skin. It felt right there. It felt more right than anything else right now. _"Make this decision as a young woman, not as a dancer." _Mister Masen's words had overturned something in me which had not been touched in a long time. Coming to _Force _had plunged me into a cutthroat world of ballet and betrayal and I hadn't emerged from it since. Dance was at the core of everything. It was like a god, upon whom ever single decision and feeling must depend.

But his words had sparked a memory. The memory of a dream I had had on the long, long bus journey on the night I had left _Force._

_We were in a sunbathed studio, just the two of us. I recognized the studio...the one where I'd first seen him dance. "What are you doing, Bella?" Edward asked me, leaning against the barre._

"_Dancing," I replied, twirling and twirling. He laughed and caught me mid spin, putting his feet outside my own._

"_Since when did you dance? Hmmm?" He brushed a stray from my face and leant forward to kiss me._

"_Thought I could try," I said, turning my head to the side so that his lips ended up on my cheek. "Do I look awful?"_

_He laughed then, "Bella Swan, you always look beautiful, regardless of whether you're tripping over your chucks or not."_

"_I'd like to see you try," I said, poking my tongue out at him._

_He laughed and swept me up in his arms and..._

I bit my lip as the road sped by underneath me. Lightning flashed overhead. Some part of me, even then, had made a very important distinction – that my love for Edward had nothing to do with ballet. Oh, perhaps it was the instigator and a source of endless joy and pain between us, but it was not why we were so attracted to each other. The way we danced together was the effect, not the cause. The cause was that we were two people who simply…clicked. We were inexplicably, undeniably _right _together.

And so, if we had never been dancers, if we had met at college or at medical school, I truly believed that we would still have had that same 'connection' we had felt from the very first time we had seen each other at _Force._

This was bigger than dance. It was simpler. It had nothing to do with Jacob or Tanya or Carlisle or anyone. It was just me and Edward.

But I was about to lose him.

The GPS voice was silent, and even though there were frequent road signs showing I was still heading for the airport, the drive seemed endless. I briefly flicked on the radio but, of course, it was on a classical station and in the throes of Saint-Saen's _The Dying Swan. _It just prayed it wasn't prophetic.

So I drove on in silence, the rain the only thing to cover the screaming urgency in my head. Eventually, signs displaying the parking place numbers appeared on the overpasses, until I shot under the runway, just as an American Airways flight taxied across. Was that his? Was I already too late?

A car horn blared as I accidentally swerved a little into the next lane. It was too hard to drive and think right now. My nerves were doubling by the second. Yesterday had been so final. So painful. What if he had already accepted this? What if things had changed?

What was I meant to say? What could I say? How could I show my shameful face to him _again?_

"_You have no faith in us, do you?" _Edward had said to me out on the snowy terrace of _Force. _I had to have faith in us now. I had to trust that he would at least listen to me. If he was still there.

The traffic slowed as the lanes all converged into one. "Come on," I whispered, tapping the ring against the steering wheel. "Please hurry up!" Perhaps thrusting my hand against the horn wasn't the most diplomatic solution, but it felt good to let something out. "Move!"

The drop-off area was ahead, with taxis and shuttles pulling up alongside the pavement. Businessmen strode in with their briefcases, avoiding the slow-moving groups of sports teams and vacationing families with too many suitcases. As soon as a taxi began to move out, I swerved into his spot, almost catching my car door on a passing van as I leapt out.

"You can't park here, ma'am," said a security guard, coming over to me with a hand up to his face to shield him from the rain.

I pressed the 'lock' button, "I won't be long." I took off into the terminal.

It was chaos. There were queues everywhere, with grumpy-looking passengers sitting peevishly on their luggage. I ran to the first official I saw. "Where's the flight to London leaving from?" I asked breathlessly.

"Which airline?" the woman said, unimpressed.

"American," I told her.

"Terminal three," she replied and started talking to someone on her radio.

"Where?" I demanded. She pointed outside and then to the right. "Shit!" I swore and rushed back outside. The car was trapped in by the long line of other vehicles. I knew nothing when it came to airports – I had only flown a few times in my whole life and that had always been with school groups or the NFSI. I panicked for a few seconds, the rain and thunder making it even more difficult to get my bearings. _She said right, _I told myself and crossed the road to the empty pavement on the other side. It was uncovered and the freezing cold water came down on me unforgivingly as I sprinted back the way I had driven. _Come on! _I shouted silently to myself, my heart pumping. The distance between the terminals was huge – how the hell could an airport be so spread out? A train roared past me on my left, the flashing faces of its passengers looking amusedly at me.

Terminal Three was almost identical to whatever one I had been in first. I crossed back over, squelching through a wind-torn flower bed in the middle of the road to get to the doors. But the scene inside was even worse than the other terminal. People were milling around, bitterly complaining about things and trying to keep control of their children. There were just as many queues, seemingly endless.

I joined the crowd of people at the two departure screens suspended from the ceiling.

_American Airways, London, Sched. 1130, Delayed, Final Boarding 1300._

I looked at the huge clock above the check-in counters. 1:05 pm. "No," I whispered. This couldn't happen. It just _couldn't._

I just wanted to sink to the ground and stay there for a very, very long time. I never wanted to get up. But there had been too much of that in the past few days. The plane hadn't taken off yet. I at least had to get as far as I could.

Silently, I followed the 'All Departures' signs. I wanted to cry but there had been too much of that, as well. I had wasted my tears on trivial things. I had wasted my tears on Jacob and saying goodbye to Edward. No more. If I cried anymore then I would be finished.

I rounded a corner. And that was it. One endless queue to the security checkpoint. There were staff at the start, checking tickets. It wound on and on, the people shuffling forward, looking around with boredom. And not one of them was Edward. He wasn't here. He had already gone through. Perhaps he was already on the plane.

I watched the monotonous line, defeated. I hardly knew what to do with myself. Go back to Anthony Masen and commiserate with him? Buy an evening dress for opening nights and accept being understudy? Call my parents and go back to Forks?

A man with a little boy on his shoulders moved along a bit. I watched the boy rest his chin on his father's head. He leaned forward just enough. Enough for me to see a dark-haired man, tall and lean and so at ease with his body, walking through the metal detector. Edward Masen. My Edward…

"EDWARD!" I shouted. The whole terminal seemed to go silent.

He turned. I saw his lips part. And then he was pushing through the lines, ducking under the barriers, muttering apologies but his eyes were only on me. The final barrier and then there was nothing but air between us.

I ran to him, throwing my arms round his neck as he lifted me. "I waited," he said into my hair, his voice shaky. "I waited and you didn't come – "

"I'm so sorry," I sobbed, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I would never let go. Never. "I'm so sorry, Edward, I'm so sorry." The tears flowed unashamedly now.

He just held me closer, his hand cradling my head. "You're here, Bella."

"Forgive me," I whispered. "Please, just…"

He pulled back, cupping my face in his hands. There were tears in his eyes, making them brighter.

"I love you," I said shakily, putting a hand to his cheek. "I love you and I always have and I have just been such an idiot, Edward, and I – "

"Bella," he said quietly, placing one long finger against my lips. It took one silent look from me, and he lowered it, tilting my face toward his, not an inch away. Gently, his thumb drew the line of my cheekbone, his breath fanning across me. His hand glided down my back, stopping in its curve. The world around us became vague. And yet still his lips did not touch mine. I felt the smooth skin on the back of his neck, letting my fingers linger in his hair. Our foreheads touched, so close to each other that my lashes touched his cheeks. Tentatively, so tentatively, he brushed his mouth against mine, in the whisper of a kiss. My lips parted, my eyelids heavy. He gently tucked a stray lock of hair away from my face. And then our lips met. I pulled myself against him with a need I had never fully understood before, breathing in like it was the first air I had ever breathed. His arm locked around my waist. Our mouths moved slowly together, carefully relearning the love we had been starved of for so long. There was never anything more perfect in the World at that moment.

A tear slid down my cheek, mingling with our kisses. Edward pulled back a little, brushing it away with his thumb. Words could have been said, but neither of us broke the silence. I revelled in the warmth of his body, the feel of his hands holding me, the knowledge that he was here. With me.

Until there was an awkward clearing of somebody's throat.

We broke apart, Edward not taking his arm from my waist, and immediately the area around us erupted into applause. My flushed face went a shade deeper as I took in the hundreds of people who had been watching us. If there had ever been a time to slip through border security, it would have been then. Even the little boy sitting on his dad's shoulders was clapping.

The throat-clearing official stepped forward and uncomfortably handed Edward his bag.

"Thank you," he said, badly trying to conceal his grin. The man grunted and went back to the x-ray machines, shaking his head.

I put a hand on Edward's wrist as he went to sling his bag over his shoulder. "Edward," I said quietly. "Are you sure you want to go? To leave this behind?"

He looked at me, "Of course, Bella."

"Your contract – breaking it could ruin you, like Sergei Polunin."

Edward frowned and covered my hand with his, "Who have you been talking to?"

I twisted the ring on my pinkie, "It's a long story."

He looked me up and down, "And why are you soaked?"

I blinked and looked down at my waterlogged clothes. Alice's cardigan was dripping all over the checkerboard linoleum and my shoes were covered in mud from the flowerbed. I had no doubt that my mascara was running on top of it all. I bit my lip and returned to Edward, "Kind of went to the wrong terminal."

He smiled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and kissing me on the top of my head, "Clearly, I can't leave or you'll never get back home in one piece." I gave him a look. Edward sighed, "Bella, I only left for you. And I could tell it was a mistake from the moment I realized I was waiting for you to stop me."

"But you were about to go."

He nodded, "I thought that maybe my instincts were wrong – too much wishful thinking. And I gave you my word." He exhaled, studying my face, "And I didn't want to let you down again."

I had to force myself not to start crying again. He gently touched my cheek and then took off his jacket. "Don't say you're fine," he caught me before I had a chance to speak.

I rolled my eyes but gratefully shrugged off Alice's cardigan. Underneath, I was stupidly only wearing my leotard.

"You came from rehearsal?" Edward asked as he helped me into his jacket. "Didn't Jacob ask questions?"

I pulled the collar up around my neck. It was warm from his body, and smelled just like him. "He doesn't know I'm here," I said, slipping my arm around his waist. We began to head back through the terminal, away from the curious gazes of waiting passengers.

"He's going to hate me even more for this," Edward murmured, looking up at the translucent dome above us, which revealed the deep grey of the sky. "I don't want to hurt him, Bella. If anything, he deserves to hurt me."

I just nodded mutely and tried not to bunch my fist in his t-shirt.

He glanced at me, "Bella?"

I gave him a pathetic smile. He raised his eyebrow, reminding me of the candid way he used to teach back at _Force, _"What is it?"

"It's been a long morning," I said, as we stepped out into the cold. I huddled into Edward's side, the euphoria of being with him again not quite gone yet. I doubted it would ever leave. He was waiting for me to go on. "Not here," I told him.

Edward frowned, "You do like to keep me waiting, Miss Swan."

I grinned, "Well you definitely took your time getting back to _Force _during the Review."

He laughed and pulled me closer, "True." But then his expression turned into one of confusion. He dropped his arm from my shoulders, stopping, "That's my father's car…"

"Oh," I said, going into my back pocket. I held up the keys, giving him a serendipitous smile, "I might have borrowed it from him."

"My father?" he repeated, hesitantly taking them from me.

"He discharged himself this morning," I told him as we set off again. "He said there was no point wasting a perfectly good day."

Edward sighed, "Sounds like him. What did he want?"

I tugged the ring off my finger and held it in my hand, "He wanted to give me this back." I stopped as we reached the car and looked up at Edward, "Why didn't you tell me it used to belong to your mother?"

He gently cupped my hand in his, gazing at the ring. "I don't know," he murmured, tracing the trail of sapphires with his thumb. "It was left to me but I knew my father felt strongly about it. It just felt like something…personal between my parents."

"He was the one who convinced me to come after you," I said softly. "He made me realize that what we have is more important than anything else."

Edward smiled absently, "My father is full of surprises."

"Edward," I whispered, bringing a hand to his perfect face. He looked at me, frowning at my desperate expression. "Just know that whatever happens, I'll never lose faith in us again. However…hard it may get. I would chase you across the World if you needed me to…" I trailed off, realizing what I had just said. I stared at Edward. Edward, whom I had just gotten back after months and months of feeling empty in his absence. Edward, whom I was just about to have a chance with as a couple, without anything to stop us.

Shakily, I took my hand from his skin, letting it fall to my side. It was then that I realized. I realized what I had to do.

"Bella?" he prompted.

I swallowed and tried to be brave enough. "You have to go," I said quietly. "You have to get on the plane before it leaves – you have to go to London."

Edward just stared at me, "Bella, I'm not going anywhere."

"You know I love you now," I said, my breath shaky. "And I keep thinking that the only way we can be together is by you staying here with me and leaving your career but our love is strong enough to last until I can find a way to get to you in London." He opened his mouth to speak but I went on, "Edward, the reason we didn't survive a few months ago was because I didn't have enough faith to know that we could still be together, even if I was at Aro's – you taught me that."

He shook his head, "I didn't mean it, Bella – I was angry."

"You were right," I whispered. "Edward, I know we can do this. I'll apply for the Royal as soon as I can or the National Ballet or anyone who will take me and we'll be together again. But if you stay here for me and miss out on your career then they still win."

He frowned, "'They'?"

I shut my eyes, cursing myself for the slip. If this was going to be goodbye then why let it end with Jacob?

"Bella?" Edward demanded, putting his hands on my shoulders. "What is going on?"

"It's not important," I muttered. "We should go back – the flight surely can't have left just yet."

But he wouldn't budge, "Bella, you are asking me to get on a plane and fly away from you just ten minutes after I got you back. I might understand your reasons but I am not going anywhere at all until you tell me what you're keeping from me – whatever is making you less than happy right now."

I shut my eyes. Of course, Edward could read me like a book. "Jacob…" I began quietly, not looking at him. His hands stiffened on my shoulders. I bit my lip and then looked up at him, my voice barely audible, "He's not in love with me. He doesn't care about me at all. I was just a way to get to you."

Edward's hands slid from my shoulders. He looked away, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

"We've been played," I murmured, then added dryly, "Exceptionally well. And now he thinks he's taken away your career from you because he doesn't think you'll be able to dance well enough knowing that I'm not with you. And he knows that if you come back to be with me then you'll break your contract and ruin your career that way, instead. Besides, he made sure that I was waylaid until your flight took off. If it hadn't been delayed, I wouldn't even have had this."

"Exceptionally well played," Edward muttered. His knuckles were white at his side, his hand in a tight fist.

"But don't you see?" I said. "This doesn't have to affect us, Edward. We can have everything – the Royal and each other."

"He'll still have Romeo," Edward said. "And his career."

"That doesn't matter," I whispered desperately, cupping his face in my hands and commanding his tense gaze, "Edward, I didn't come here because of what Jacob did to me. It's because your father made me realize that our love transcends all of this pettiness. And I thought that if it was between your career and me then you should be allowed to choose."

"And I choose you," he said frustratedly, his anger for Jacob conflicting with the more immediate issue.

"But we can have both," I whispered. "If we have the strength to just last a few months apart."

"A few months when you'll be with _him, _Bella," Edward snapped. "You'll have to face that arrogant, delusional bastard every single day."

I swallowed, crossing my arms over my chest. I was cold now, even with Edward's coat, "I won't. He revoked my scholarship to Aro's and put Tanya in my place as Juliet." I tried to smile at him, though it looked more like a grimace, "So I'm all free and you have nothing to worry about. I'll finish my training back in Forks and prepare for auditions and then I'll come and join you."

"You can't go through this alone," Edward whispered helplessly, reaching up to touch my cheek. "I can't leave you again. And you shouldn't have to go back to Forks just because of Jacob."

"If I'm going to live in England then some time with my Dad would be a good idea." _England, _I realized with terror. _We're going to live in England…_

Edward shook his head, "We shouldn't have to do this. We shouldn't be forced into this because of Jacob. What if it all goes wrong? What if you can't find work or get a better offer? Or if the Royal Ballet doesn't renew my contract?"

"Our love comes before everything else," I said softly. "Everything else will work out in some way, I promise." I pulled his hands into mine, "Do you trust me, Edward?"

"Of course," he whispered, sadness lacing his voice. This wasn't ideal – to be torn apart just minutes after being together. But it was more than I had had a minute before that, when I didn't think I would ever see him again. This was enough.

"Then we'll get through this," I whispered, and kissed him softly on the mouth.

He sighed and pulled me closer, deepening the kiss. Wind breezed along the pavement, toiling in my hair, but nothing distracted me from what was one of the last kisses I would have with him for a long time.

Until he pulled back, "Wait."

My heart jolted, "What?"

He was frowning in thought, that little crease between his brows as he looked at me, "Why did Jacob waylay you?"

I shrugged, "So that I didn't come and tell you what he'd done."

"But what was the point in that?" he said. "When he'd already described the predicament I was in – lose my career or lose you. Why would it matter if you came and told me?"

"Because we've solved the problem," I replied. "Apart from a few months apart, the predicament is finished."

Edward shook his head, "Jacob doesn't think like that. He's all or nothing and he has never understood love – he saw the choice as black and white, like we did before you realized." A smile slowly crept to his lips, "I know why he didn't want me to know until I was safely in London, Bella."

"Why?" I asked doubtfully.

It was a wide grin now, "Because my contract was written before NFSI auditions occurred. There's a clause written into it which says that if I got Romeo, I would be allowed to fulfil my commitment here before starting rehearsals in London."

I put a hand to my mouth, "So if Jacob had to pull out for some reason, you would become Romeo and wouldn't have to leave – you wouldn't breach your contract."

Edward nodded, "Yes. Bella, we would have time to say goodbye and get back at Jake in the process."

I burst out into ecstatic laughter, as Edward lifted me up like the true danseur he was – around my thighs, so that I was towering above all the staring passengers. I folded my arms and looked down at him, feeling completely balanced in his hold, "So this is what you think about when you're kissing me?"

He laughed and, to the gasps of onlookers, flipped me down into a fish dive, his arm secure around my stomach so that I was suspended at his waist, my body curving luxuriously. "It's the prospect of kissing you ten thousand times more," he whispered in my ear and pecked me on the cheek before delivering me back on my feet, making me laugh like I hadn't in a very, very long time.

* * *

><p>Even my poor, weary characters deserve a happy new year!<p>

But now what do you think? What will Edward say when he hears about his father's misdeeds? Will Edward's plan work out? Or should they have fled to London?

But, most importantly, how on Earth are they going to get Jacob to pull out?

And, no, murder is not an option (though I would find a fall into the orchestra pit a _very _satisfactory ending)!

Can't wait to hear your thoughts!

**Thank you so much for being such great readers this past year and all the best for the year ahead!**


	43. Chapter 43

Hi everyone!

Well, I am safely back in New Zealand after a rather long journey home, which included a little trip into the depths of Edgeware Road underground station - who knew the London Underground could make people severely motion sick?

Since returning, I have been super busy being jetlagged, hosting a brunch (I wish it was as posh as that sounds) and doing some cycling out in the sunshine, because I feel like the palest person in the country right now.

So, I am sorry for the late update but I'm sure ten thousand words will make up for it...right?

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed! And, on occasion, defended my slow updating. As always, I appreciate a bit of a nudge but things were getting a little violent on the reviews page!**

**Thanks for all your support! Please keep it up as we go into these last two chapters!**

* * *

><p><em>Heart and Soul - Wolfstone (the Scots are awesome, as proven here...)<em>

_Demons - Imagine Dragons_

_Viennese Waltzes - Johann Strauss (hehehe Emmett and Ian...they fit the Blue Danube all too well)_

_Future World Music_

_As always, any suggestions are welcome!_

* * *

><p>The rain was still pouring, the wind blowing leaves into the windscreen as we got onto the motorway once more. I had let Edward drive, not wanting to be responsible for the loss of another Masen car. Our hands rested entwined on the console, Edward masterfully steering with his other. We had lapsed into silence after the warden had shooed us into the car, threatening us with fines.<p>

A tiny thread of nerves was beginning to grow in me. We might have known what would save Edward's contract, but we didn't know how.

"There's more I should tell you," I said quietly, the engine humming smoothly underneath us.

Edward glanced at me, "More?"

"Tanya and Lauren were in on it," I told him. "Tanya was the one who found out about my parents' financial issues and Lauren was the one who told her when I was coming to your room."

He swerved a little and detangled his hand from mine to gain control of the steering wheel, "What?"

I smiled dryly to myself, "I guess we should have seen it as too much of a coincidence. Eyes on the road, Edward."

He gave an impatient noise and corrected, his hands tense on the wheel, "Tanya…I knew she had it in for you but I thought she was over it with you gone. And Lauren…" he shook his head, his eyes sad, "I thought we were closer than we were, clearly."

"She's gone through a lot," I murmured.

"But she knows that I have, too. I thought we understood each other."

"There might be some kind of an explanation or – "

"No," he cut in. "Clearly, I've been trusting all the wrong people."

I bit my lip, trying to work out how to drop the next bombshell. "Edward…your father was involved, as well – Edward!" I cried out as he almost took out the car in front.

"What did my father do?" he demanded.

"Edward…" his knuckles were white again… "Maybe I should drive."

He slowed down minutely, "Tell me. Please."

"Your father was the one who refused my scholarship on the board and made sure Tanya returned in my place."

Edward didn't say a thing, his eyes fixed on the road and his body rigid.

"He wanted what was best for you," I said. "And he didn't realize Jacob was behind it. And he helped me to get you back…" I trailed off, realizing that nothing I said was going to help what Edward was experiencing. I tried to consider what I would do if Charlie had decided to take Edward away from me, but I couldn't…Charlie would never do something like that – he would never go behind my back like that, without even talking to me first. Which made Mister Masen's acts all the more disgraceful and damning.

We travelled in silence for a while. I hunkered down in Edward's coat, hiding my hands in the sleeves and my face in the collar, my eyes peeking out to see the sky scrapers of Chicago charging towards us.

"I remember the last time we were driving through the rain with you in my clothes," Edward said after a long time. His voice sounded distant, but his grip on the steering wheel had relaxed.

I smiled, remembering how he had unwillingly stopped to save me from the downpour outside Angela's hospital. I had been drenched, and he had given me his sweater, toying with my emotions to the point of pain. "That was an interesting trip," I said. "Until Tanya decided she wanted picking up, too."

Edward shook his head, "She always wants something from me."

I looked out the window, at the brooding grey clouds, thinking. Tanya…the bane of my existence since that very first night at _Force, _when she had laid claim to Edward, whose dancing I had already fallen in love with. She had always been there, every time I had wanted to talk to him. And even when he had abandoned their USB audition to come back for me, she had followed. She had even expected him to dance with her at the Review, after she'd pushed me. When it came to Edward, Tanya was just as delusional as me and Vicky. "Then why don't you give her what she wants?" I murmured.

Edward glanced at me, "What do you mean?"

"She still wants you as her partner, Edward," I said. "Today, when Jacob was proudly telling me how he'd pulled it all off, Tanya didn't want him to tell me about her involvement. And when I mentioned it, she couldn't even respond. She still wants to be with you – her relationship with Jacob is tenuous and she doesn't trust him. But you're her one true partner, Edward."

"What are you saying?" he asked cautiously. "That I should lead her on?"

"We just need one night, Edward. One night with you and me as Romeo and Juliet and Helen will not be able to convince anyone that Jacob and Tanya are better. She will have to accept that we are the best and then you'll get Romeo and you won't have to leave." I took a deep breath, "If you can just convince Tanya to stay away for the evening then we'll have a chance."

Edward's brow creased in concern, "Bella, I've already betrayed you once because of her and – "

"Edward," I said with a smile. "This would be her comeuppance. You'd have my blessing. But if it's about honour then I understand."

He smiled dryly, "When it comes to Tanya and Jacob, I have very little honour left for them."

"You'll do it, then?"

Edward nodded, "But we still have Jake to deal with. He'll be on his guard and he's definitely not as gullible as Tanya."

"Lock him in his dressing room?" I suggested. "Get him arrested, like he did to Vicky?"

"I don't think he's eligible for statutory rape," Edward muttered, then seemed to hesitate, glancing at me.

I blushed a deep red, "Oh. We, uh, we didn't."

He just nodded, but I saw his shoulders relax in relief. That night, when I had been so drunk and we had gone into my room, I had been very, very lucky that nothing more had happened. I had been lucky that, even then, Edward had come into my head, thankfully breaking me out of my drunken stupidity.

The rest of the drive was in silence. I mulled over what we could do to get Jacob out of tonight's performance, but there was nothing without breaking the law. A dancer would only ever get pulled from a performance because of injury. I might have hated Jacob, but I wasn't prepared to do to him what Tanya had done to me.

"Anything?" I asked Edward as we pulled into the backstage car park.

"No," he said unhappily, unsnapping his seatbelt. "Though bashing his head in is definitely a feasible option."

"And I thought you were tough on Mike," I said amusedly, though from the murderous look on Edward's face, I realized that the plan might not have been entirely off his agenda.

"Mike was just being stupid and nervous," Edward said. "But everything Jacob did was so calculated – so deliberate. It makes me sick to know how he treated you." He gave a heavy sigh and looked at me with such sad tenderness, "I'm sorry that my past got in the way of you, Bella. You would have still been at _Force _if it wasn't for me."

"What?" I laughed, "And dating Mike? Still stuck in First Year with no Third Years to swoon over?"

"Jasper's had his fair share of suitors," Edward suggested.

I scoffed, "He's not single. You were my only choice."

"Your last resort?"

I winked at him, "You bet."

Edward smiled and laid a kiss on my fingers, making my heartbeat spike.

"Come on," I said quietly. "Let's give them hell."

Thunder grumbled in the distance as we climbed out into the rain and headed around to the front of the building. Mister Masen was leaning against one of the great pillars, sheltered from the wind. He looked so pale. He straightened as he saw us. I felt Edward stiffen next to me as we walked.

"Edward," he said, stepping towards us, wobbling a little on his stick. "You're here – "

"Don't bother, Father," Edward said, not even looking at him. "You should go back to the hospital and stop meddling in things that don't concern you."

"I didn't mean for this to happen, Edward," Mister Masen said desperately. "I want to make up for it."

I knew that he wasn't a man to sink to desperation, and even Edward eventually turned to look at him at that. "I don't care," he spoke emotionlessly, a slight tremor in his voice the only thing to betray his real anger. "Because there is no way you can make up for it." And with that, he went into the Civic.

I knew he expected me to follow, but I stepped closer to Mister Masen, feeling sorry for him. He looked broken. "He needs time," I said softly. "And maybe some space…"

He nodded quickly, looking down, "I'm going to Washington tonight – to a conference."

"You should go back to the hospital, Mister Masen," I implored him. "You're in no state to travel."

He gave me a short smile, "Thank you for your concern, Bella. But I think Edward needs to have Chicago to himself, and his aunt lives in DC. Probably time I visited."

I tried to return his smile, but it felt so insincere. I felt sorry for him. "We've worked out a way for Edward to keep his contract and still stay here for the next two weeks," I told him, trying to give him some respite from the guilt. "If we can find a way to stop Jacob and Tanya from performing tonight then Edward and I can prove that we're the only ones who should have those roles."

Mister Masen's eyes brightened, "I can talk to Carlisle and Helen – usually a quiet exchange of money solves these matters."

I blinked. Oh dear. "That's okay," I managed to get out. "We've got it covered." Not to mention the fact that bribing one of the most honourable and respectable ballet dancers in the world made me sick. And giving Helen Fortescue _anything _she might wantjust seemed wrong.

Mister Masen resigned himself to a nod.

"Will you be alright to get home?" I asked worriedly, feeling precious time ticking away.

He nodded, "I'll call a cab."

_Good plan, _I thought, having just experienced Edward's emotionally-powered driving skills.

Mister Masen gave my arm a gentle squeeze, the wind tousling his well-groomed hair, "Good luck, Bella."

"You too," I said softly. "The very best."

Edward was waiting for me in the foyer, a grim look on his face. The ballroom scene music was leaking through from the theatre, as was Helen's scratchy voice, "Higher, Tanya! This isn't Broadway! Jacob, make sure she knows what the Hell she's doing in that jump!"

"This is what you put up with in San Francisco?" Edward muttered to me, leaning against the vacant ticket desk, his arms folded over his sculpted chest.

"Where are the piques, Tanya?"

"But for far longer," I said. "Jacob hated her for that."

"Alright! Stop!" Helen was shouting. "Take five minutes and we're going from the top!"

"But he hates me more and so does she," Edward finished. He sighed and pulled out his phone, quickly typing as he spoke, "God forgive me for the devious act I am about to commit." He hit send.

It took Tanya just two minutes to read Edward's text and sneak out into the foyer. She didn't see me, standing up on the balcony, half concealed by one of the columns. I looked down on the scene, watching Tanya look around nervously.

"Tanya," came Edward's voice. He stepped out from one of the alcoves, his hands buried in his coat pockets, eyes cautious.

"Eddie," she whispered, going to him. "What are you doing here? You're meant to be in London." Her gaze shifted uneasily to the theatre doors, but she wasn't running, screaming to Jacob that his plan was in danger.

"I was going to," Edward said. "But then I realized that I couldn't get on the plan without asking you…" he sighed in frustration, "Tanya, I'm sorry for the way I've been treating you – it was unfair."

Tanya pursed her lips together in agreement, "A little."

"I've been a total fool," he said regretfully, shaking his head, "And it took Bella telling me that she only wanted Jacob and that she was through with me for me to realize that I didn't even want her to begin with."

She blinked, looking up at him with trusting, hopeful eyes. "Eddie," she breathed, taking her hands in his, "What are you saying?"

I tried not to throw something at her as I thought about her skin touching his. I knew that we wouldn't be able to be partners forever – there would be hundreds of kisses to other dancers, but I had only just got Edward back. And Tanya was only going to be one of those dancers over my dead body.

"I know it's short notice," Edward went on, "But we're both understudies – there's nothing left for us here, right?"

Tanya looked away uncomfortably.

Edward frowned, "Tanya? Are you okay?"

I knew why he had said what he'd said. He wanted to give her a chance – a chance to tell him the truth. A thrum of guilt went through me as I remembered that Edward and Tanya had known each other for years and, whether I liked it or not, they had worked closely as a partnership for almost all of that time. And as I had learnt with Jacob, there had to be some amount of trust between two people to throw yourself into each other's arms night after night. Edward cared about her. Or, at least, he had.

But Tanya just constructed her sickly-sweet smile again and looked back at him, "Of course, Eddie. What were you saying?"

She didn't notice the disappointment in his eyes as he kept going, "Come to London with me."

"What?" she gasped, putting a manicured hand to her chest.

"Come to London with me," Edward repeated desperately, stepping closer. "They know we work well together – they'll take you without a second glance. I'll demand that they accept you or I won't join the company."

"You would do that for me?" Tanya whispered, her bosom still heaving against her hand.

"I would do anything for you after all you've done for me," he said. "There's a flight this evening, at six. I've booked the tickets already. Will you meet me there?"

I swore I could see tears glittering in her eyes as she sniffled, "Of course, Eddie." She pressed her mouth against his and then flung her arms around his neck, forcing him to put his arms around her waist. He glanced up at me from over her shoulder, desperate. I gave him a weak smile, trying to ignore the déjà vu.

"I should go," he said, carefully setting her back down. He scratched the back of his head, "I don't want Bella to see me here – she might do something to stop you."

Tanya nodded enthusiastically, dashing tears from her cheeks, "You're right – you should definitely go before anyone sees you. Not that that little bitch could ever stop me from being with you."

Edward smiled, buttoning up his coat, "Six. Don't be late."

"I won't be," she breathed, then threw herself on him once again. "Oh, Eddie!"

Edward patted her on the back and stepped away, "I should definitely go."

I watched her expression carefully as Edward strode out the doors a little too quickly, almost surprised that she had believed him so easily. But, then, who was I to judge someone for their gullibility? She might have been fooled for five crucial minutes but I had been fooled for three months by someone far less honourable and believable than Edward.

"I'm sorry," Edward's voice came from behind me. He tentatively touched my hand.

I smiled, turning around, "It wasn't your fault. I'm sorry you had to do that."

He pulled me back into a shadowy corner, running his hands down my arms until our hands were entwined. "I didn't realize you were going to send her all the way to the airport with hopes of London."

He shrugged, "It seemed like the best way to get her away for certain."

"What if she comes back when she realizes you're not coming? She would have enough time to get there before curtain-up."

Edward gave me a sly smile, "I might have called for backup. It just so happens that a friend of mine is arriving here for a break from the Royal Ballet a couple of hours before Tanya arrives."

"A friend?" I repeated. "Who?"

He looked at me with those bright green eyes, "Not all of the Denali's are bad."

"Kate Denali?" I exclaimed.

He nodded, "She was in the NFSI for _Giselle _as a third year, so we got to know each other. When I got offered the contract, I got in touch with her to ask her what the Royal was like."

"And that makes her trustworthy?"

"She moved to London for a reason, Bella – escaping her family. And I know that when she gets my message, she'll have no problem in making sure her little sister regrets everything she's done. Apparently there's a discerning aunt in Rockford who is keen to straighten them out. Kate will know what to do, Bella." He touched my cheek, "Trust me."

\*\*/*/

After hearing Helen call the rehearsal to a close and Tanya hastily making her escape out the main doors with Jacob none the wiser, Edward and I turned to the struggle of how to eliminate Jacob from the performance. The rest of the company was beginning to arrive for class – it was already three thirty.

We retreated back into the downstairs corridors so that Edward wouldn't be spotted. The last thing we needed was Jacob finding out he was here before we even had a plan. "He's untouchable with Helen on his side," I muttered as we passed the big, communal dressing rooms. "There's no way that telling the truth is going to stop him from keeping the role."

Edward nodded, "Helen's moral compass doesn't exactly point North. I don't know why – " he cut off as we heard footsteps coming from around the corner.

"Alice!" came Jasper's voice. "We have to talk about this!"

"No," she was replying, her breath hurried. "I have to fix these freaking pants and then warm up."

"Alice!"

She stopped in her tracks as she rounded the corner, seeing us. "Edward?" she blinked, as if he was just a part of her imagination.

Jasper came to an abrupt halt behind her. His hair was a little dishevelled and he looked stressed. I had never seen him as anything other than calm before. Nor had I ever heard them arguing before…

But whatever it was was quickly forgotten as Alice got over her surprise, dropped the gold pants she was holding and threw herself on him. "You stupid brute!" her muffled voice came from his shoulder. "Why the hell didn't you say goodbye?"

Jasper smoothed his hair and gave me a quick, embarrassed smile, "What happened?"

Alice moved back, though there was a noticeable distance between her and Jasper. Edward slipped his arm around my waist as we tried to explain what had happened in as few words as possible. By the end, Alice was gripping Jasper's hand, quaking with emotion, "I can't believe it. Does he have no limits?"

"What can we do to help?" Jasper asked, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

Edward shook his head, "We've come up with nothing to get Jacob with. And you two still have roles to prepare for and things to do – you can't get in trouble because of us."

"No way, Edward," said Alice. "You've already tried to take care of things alone and look how that turned out. Class and the Prince's ripped crotch can wait – we're helping you."

I couldn't help but smile at her impossible stubbornness, "Won't the Prince be missing his pants?"

She winked at me and we set off down the corridor. She pulled her phone out from her sweater pocket, "Em and Rose ought to know that you're back, Edward."

"Rosalie is going to kill you," Jasper murmured.

"I have no doubt," Edward replied mildly.

"Don't worry," Alice said, twirling the pants round in a circle as we walked. "She'll most certainly have help with that. You are not forgiven just yet."

I watched the spinning blur of gold fabric as they continued to talk. Something was on the edge of my mind…something I just couldn't quite pinpoint.

It was as we were all entering Alice's dressing room that I remembered that one crucial fact; "Jacob was meant to audition for the Prince."

I had interrupted their conversation. They turned to look at me.

"He couldn't audition for two roles," Edward said, frowning at me.

"Caius swayed it so he could," I said, my thoughts turning over rapidly. "He thought Jacob wasn't capable of getting Romeo. But I told Jacob not to do the audition – to just go for Romeo. He knows the role, though." I closed my eyes, trying to catch up with myself. It was true that a dancer would only ever be taken out of a role for injury, and Jacob was not, indeed, injured or likely to get injured in the next few hours. But what if another dancer was injured? What if another dancer had to take on the role? I opened my eyes and looked excitedly at my friends, "All we need to do is make sure that Jacob is the only one who can play the Prince tonight. He'll be forced out of Romeo and Edward will have to replace him."

"We'd have to stop two other Princes from being able to do it," Edward said, but his eyes showed that his mind was ticking it over.

"Ian's the current prince," said Alice. "Emmett's quite good friends with him – he might be convinced to step down for the night."

Jasper folded his arms, deep in thought, "But the one who auditioned from USB?"

"He'll be in the corps," said Edward. "I've taught all of them – I could talk to him."

Alice grinned, "One of your minions!"

He gave her a sideways glance, raising his eyebrow.

"It's true," she said primly, then grabbed my hands. "You're a genius, Bella!"

There was a knock on the door and Emmett and Rosalie came in. Rose didn't even hesitate – it took a millisecond from seeing Edward safely standing there to slapping him smartly across the cheek. "You're a dick, Edward Masen."

In the brief time we'd had together at _Force, _Edward had once told me that Rosalie's touchiness was well founded – she had been betrayed by someone close to her once and there was only a handful of people she had been able to trust since. So when Edward recoiled, the pain on his face was mostly from the guilt, and not the bright red mark on his skin. I guessed that we both had a lot to answer to.

But now wasn't the time. "Emmett," said Alice, trying to diffuse the tension. "We need a favour from Ian."

Emmett frowned, folding his big arms across his chest, "What for?"

\*\*/*/

Things were falling into place. It turned out that Ian was more than happy to play the martyr – to me and Edward's joy, it was apparently the most boring role the ballet world had to offer and he was glad for a night off. The guy from USB was easily drawn away from his stretches and into the wings by Alice, who seemed to be considered the on tour seamstress and was trusted with everything. Edward met him in the semi-darkness. He vaguely explained that it was important for Jacob to have to play the Prince tonight and that if he was told to play the role, it would be good if he refused. "I'll owe you one," Edward said honestly.

"The Aro lot have been nothing but rude to us," said the guy, making me glad that I was listening from the next wing with Alice. "But put in a good word for me with that blonde girl? She's been ignoring all my advances…"

Alice and I both clamped hands over our mouths to stop from laughing. The poor, poor guy!

"I'll try," Edward said carefully.

"Then I'll do my best, Maestro Masen."

"'Maestro Masen'?" I repeated as the USB guy trotted back to his friends and Edward slipped round to us.

He made a face, "I didn't pick it."

We laughed as Carlisle clapped his hands, calling everyone to attention. We strained to see him as he asked everyone to sit down. His expression was grim. Helen stood next to him, a sly, disgusting smile on her face. "I have an announcement to make," said Carlisle, clasping his hands in front of him. "Firstly, Edward Masen has regrettably had to leave us due to a contract with the Royal Ballet in London."

"Hell yeah!" Emmett shouted, rousing a round of applause from all of Edward's 'minions' and the Third Years. The Royals just looked amongst each other, confused. I guessed that they didn't know whether to be glad he was gone or annoyed that he was doing something far more prestigious. I spotted Jacob sitting at the front, smirking. I wasn't surprised he was gracing class with his presence today – he wanted to revel in his victory. The applause hadn't phased him. He thought Edward was ruined either way. How wrong he was.

"Secondly," Carlisle continued, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "There has been a change in casting. Bella Swan will no longer be Juliet and Tanya Denali, as understudy, will be taking her place."

Whispering and talk broke out, glances exchanged.

"Boo!" Emmett called out for fun. The Royals looked at him, wondering why he was against a Forcian getting it instead of me. I was beginning to realize just how much of a herd of sheep the Royals really were. Everyone else just seemed unsettled, but not exactly unhappy. Something had had to change – there hadn't been any standing ovations and they'd all read the reviews. I guessed that they thought Tanya might fix things. I felt the first throws of nerves in my belly, realizing that everything we were doing was under the assumption that we really would be better than Jacob and Tanya.

"Alright," Carlisle said, holding a hand up to hush everyone. "Everyone to the barre."

Alice gave us a smile and slipped out onto the stage to take up her place at the barre. "I hope this works," I whispered nervously, taking off Edward's sweater and my jeans.

He held his arms out to take everything, looking me up and down appreciatively, before meeting my gaze with a twinkle in his eye, "This will work. And then we can be together without anyone to get in our way."

I smiled and went up onto my tiptoes to give him a painfully short kiss. Then I stepped out onto the stage, where everyone was settling into their spots at the barres. With a deep breath, I raised my chin up and went right to the front.

People stared as I went, watching me nervously and, no doubt, wondering why I was bothering to take class. I ignored them and went up the gap between the two front barres. Jacob stood at the front of the right one, the Royals behind him in their deep red leotards and t-shirts. I realized I was still dressed like one of them in my crimson leo. I remembered my first class with them – thinking I could never be as good as them; that I could never be a part of their exclusive group. But now I had done everything I thought was impossible and I was ready to move on. I was ready to go beyond their pettiness and mindless following.

I took my place opposite Jacob, as if I was still the principal danseuse. He looked over at me. I met his gaze evenly.

"How dedicated you are," he said amusedly, stretching his calf.

I smiled, "Never a day's rest – you taught me that."

"Bitterness always did become you," he murmured. "Though I thought you'd be balling your eyes out for a few days and blaming the World."

I gazed at his handsome, lying, cowardly face, "How little you know people." I cocked my head to the side, "Or perhaps it's how little you know yourself."

He just smirked and turned back to the front.

"Bella," said Carlisle, coming up to me, his hands on his hips. "I'm sorry – I had no say in this."

I smiled and nodded, "It's fine, sir."

He took a step back and studied me intently. Eventually, he nodded and turned to face the cast. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen, we will begin with two demi plies in first, then a grande plie, sweep forward, bend back and repeat." He demonstrated at the barre, in front of a USB dancer, and then counted us in.

I took a deep breath, trying to relax my tense limbs, and began, fanning my feet out so they were a straight line, my heels together, and then smoothly bending my knees, my free arm drifting out as I went down and then back in as I rose. Immediately, my mind began listing what was wrong – loosen my supporting hand, lengthen out my back, tuck my pelvis more. I tried to commit it all to my subconscious, realizing that I had no idea how to strike a balance.

Across from me, Jacob was sinking smoothly down into a grande plie, his posture secure and his leg muscles so strong that it looked as though he could stay in that low position for an age. But he came back up easily, his arm sweeping forward and out. That same dark, focused expression was in his eyes. Like blinkered vision, there was nothing but ballet terms and criticisms in his head, excluding the rest of the World. His only satisfaction from dance, I decided, was the small little amendments he made and the victory of being at the top at the end of the day. It was a meagre reward for such hard work.

We went through the usual tendus and releves, the frappes and the piques. Gradually, I allowed myself to relax into the movements and just enjoy the feeling – the beautiful tension in each stretch, the strength in every held attitude or releve. I let myself be distracted by such feelings, knowing that striking a balance could come later. I began to finally find the mindset I had had at _Force, _except that now I was infinitely stronger and more consistent and graceful. And for the first time, I could enjoy my strength without constantly trying to better it.

"Next up," Carlisle said as the piano finished. "Just straight battement tendus, remembering, ladies, that it's the base for all those steps in the ballroom scene which still aren't high enough. Everyone needs to check that their hips are square. Okay, and five, six, seven, eight and up, up, up! Keep in time, Miss Brandon! Bridget, pull up! Listen to the beat, all of you and – "

"Shit!" came a shout. "Oh Hell…freaking…" The list of profanities went on as everyone stopped and turned to look as Ian sunk onto the barre, his left ankle limp. "I think it's broken!"

"Everyone move away," Carlisle calmly commanded, clearing a way through.

"Woah," said Emmett. "Dude, it's swelling like mad…"

In truth, Ian had stuffed some toilet paper down his tights and as Carlisle tried to touch it, he flinched away, exclaiming, "No! It hurts too much! Oh God!"

Next to me, Jacob snorted impatiently and muttered, "Grow some balls." He started practising his battements, once again blinkering himself to the chaos of real life.

"Alright," Carlisle said, overdramatic Ian testing his patience. "Do you want us to call an ambulance?"

"No," he grunted. "I'll just..." he was puffing with the effort of speaking, "The hotel…rest…"

"Ice?" Emmett suggested. Ian nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh yes! Ice! I need ice!"

Behind Emmett, I could see Jasper trying his level best not to burst out laughing.

"I'll take him, Dad," said Emmett, so very responsibly. Before Carlisle could protest, Emmett had slung an arm over Ian's shoulders.

"I'm sorry!" Ian gasped, letting Emmett take all his weight. "Someone'll have to take my place as Prince! Oh, it hurts!"

They began limping away. "I'll pay you for the taxi," Carlisle called to Emmett as they made it to the wings.

"You're my saviour, sir!" Ian called, then added, "Oh, I think I'm going to puke…"

Everyone excitedly hurried to the wings to see, but he managed to make it out without retching all over the stage equipment.

Alice was hiding her face in Jasper's side, laughing uncontrollably.

Meanwhile, Helen had stormed up the stage steps, followed by Caius, Vicky and Jeffrey. She looked at the focused Jacob and then unwillingly turned to me, snapping, "What happened?"

I shrugged, "Ian's injured." At her impatient expression, I verified, "The guy who plays the Prince."

She glared at me and then turned to Carlisle as he was wearily returning to the front. "Carlisle, we need a new Prince."

"I'm aware," he said mildly, sounding like he had just about had it with her. "Who else auditioned?"

"One of the USB boys," Helen said, then efficiently clapped her hands. "Alright! Everybody sit down and be quiet, for God's sake! Now who was it who auditioned for the Prince?"

The room was silent as Edward's minion nervously stood. "Me, Mrs Fortescue."

"It's Ms," she snapped.

"Who would marry her?" I heard Rosalie snicker, understanding why she and Emmett seemed to be made for each other.

Helen gave Rosalie an annoyed glance, though she hadn't heard, and looked back to the guy, "Congratulations – you will be playing the Prince until further notice."

"I uh…I can't…" he said, wringing his hands together.

"Why not?" she demanded.

"I've uh…" he looked down. "I've forgotten it."

"Please," she scoffed. "You'll be fine. Carlisle will give you a refresher. You're dancing the Prince."

_Come on, _I thought. _Do better…_

The guy gave a nervous glance in the direction of the wings. "But…"

Helen rolled her eyes, "Really, how unprofessional you all are! You will dance the Prince and that is final."

He bit his lip, looking terrified in the face of Helen Fortescue's wrath. "Okay."

Inside, I was cursing. I looked desperately to Alice and Jasper, then Rosalie. And then Carlisle! He was standing there with his arms folded, trying to discern why the guy wasn't more enthusiastic about being given a role. In a ridiculous way, I stretched my arms over my head, trying to draw his attention. _Come on! _He glanced my way. I gave him a desperate look, willing him to somehow understand the importance of this.

He frowned at me, his brows pressing together. I looked toward the USB guy and then back. Carlisle sighed and shook his head, then unfolded his arms and stepped forward, "Wait, Helen. I'm afraid Henry simply cannot play the Prince."

Henry gave a sigh of relief and remained awkwardly standing there as Carlisle explained, "He is key to most of the corps dances, Helen. Henry is already partnering two girls in the first act because we already have several corps danseurs off on injury. If he plays the Prince then I will have to take those girls out of the dances, as well as whomever he's sparring with in the fight scene. There are too many absences to spare him – the corps is already depleted." He gave her a curt smile, "I know you have decided that I am not longer fit to run this production, but I do believe that I have more knowledge about the state of your dancers, particularly in the corps, which you have not had anything to do with as you have been preoccupied with the principals."

Helen just stared at him, lips pursed in anger. "Well," she said eventually. "Who are we meant to put on instead, Carlisle?"

"Jacob," I said happily, standing up. Helen and Carlisle both turned to look at me, the former enraged and the latter still frowning at me.

Jacob looked up at me, "What the Hell are you talking about?"

I smiled at him and then, to Helen and Carlisle, "Jacob was meant to audition for the Prince, remember?"

"I auditioned for Romeo," he said flippantly. "And I am Romeo."

"He was meant to," Jeffrey Evans said, arms folded. "You must know it?"

"He does," said Vicky, coming forward from where she had been leaning against the piano, her eyes on me. "Caius and I taught it to him."

"He's playing Romeo!" Caius exclaimed, embarrassment turning his pale cheeks an amusing red. "Teaching him the Prince was just a precaution."

"Thanks," Jacob spat. For once, his anger was well-founded; getting him a 'precautionary' audition had been a terrible show of how little faith Caius had had in him.

"Just because he didn't audition for it doesn't mean he can't dance it," I said.

Helen gave me a patronizing look. "This is a conversation for adults," she said dismissively. "You're not even part of the cast."

"Excuse me," Carlisle said tersely. "I will not allow you to speak to one of my students like that, Helen."

"She's not your student," she said immediately, even as my heart warmed.

Carlisle made no apology for his mistake.

"This is a ridiculous conversation, anyway!" Caius said, getting flustered. "There are no other Romeos except Jacob. We can't do the show without a Romeo. We'll simply have to cancel for tonight."

"That's right," Jacob said, standing up. "There's no one else." He gave me a snarl of a smile, "Too bad."

"Actually," came a voice. "There is."

Everyone turned. My heart pounded as Edward made his way through the cast, shocked people shuffling out of the way to let him pass.

Jacob's face fell into an expression of total astonishment, "What are you – "

"I will play Romeo," Edward said, ignoring Jacob completely and talking directly to Carlisle. His eyes were bold and uncompromising as he stood there.

"What is he doing here?" Helen demanded to no one in particular as Carlisle broke out into a wide smile and gave Edward a firm handshake and clap on the back, shaking his head in awe.

"I believe our problem is solved," he said, supressing a laugh.

"No way!" Jacob exclaimed furiously. "He cannot play Romeo! I am Romeo! He isn't even part of the company anymore! Helen!"

But Helen was at a loss for words.

I decided to take full advantage, slipping my hand into Edward's, "You said yourself, Helen – we'll have to cancel if we don't have one of the soloist roles. How will you explain all the ticket sale losses and the disgruntled audience when you had all the necessary dancers right here, prepared to dance?"

"I'm not prepared to dance," Jacob snapped.

"Be quiet, Jacob," Caius said tiredly, defeated. "You'll dance what you're told to dance."

"Or risk starting your career with a very bad reputation," I added, smiling at him. "Almost as bad as Edward's would have been if your plan had worked."

He gave me a look so poisonous, so furious that it sent a chill up my spine. "You did this, you little bitch!"

I felt Edward's hand tighten around mine. "Carlisle," he said tensely. "Do you confirm that I'm the only one who will be playing Romeo tonight?"

"Absolutely," Carlisle said, then looked to Helen and the rest of them.

She looked like she swallowed a dozen lemons, "Do what you will," she muttered. "I'm sure it'll be a failure."

The other staff nodded, Vicky grinning broadly.

Carlisle looked back to Edward, "Congratulations."

Edward gave him a stiff smile, "Good." And then he spun round, letting go of my hand and, before anyone knew what was happening, smashed his fist into Jacob's face.

"Edward!" I cried out as he then grabbed the front of Jacob's t-shirt and pulled his stunned face close to his.

"Listen, you worthless piece of crap," Edward sneered. "If you ever so much as touch Bella or anyone else ever again I will make sure you are incapable of dancing another fucking step for your entire life." He looked him up and down, not caring that his nose was bleeding profusely. Jacob stared back defiantly, but it was nothing compared to the rage in Edward's eyes. His voice shook with it, "We were brothers once, Jake. I don't know if I can ever forgive you for what you've done over these past three years but if you ever remember how much better life was before your ridiculous vendetta began and you want your brother back, I might be able to try."

"I don't want your forgiveness," Jacob hissed.

Edward just gave a wordless snarl and pushed him away, Jacob's back hitting the end of the barre. Like a wounded animal, Jacob gave a broken, weak glare at me and Edward and skulked off stage, holding a hand over his bleeding nose.

Edward watched him go, his chest rising and falling fast. I knew well enough not to touch him just yet.

Leah and Seth hesitantly stood up and went after Jacob. I noticed that Gerry and the others looked more surprised than angry. I guessed that they, like everyone else, were wondering what Jacob had done to deserve such violence from the most respected dancer in the company.

It was, of course, Emmett who broke the stunned silence. He bumbled back in from the wings, having just taken Mister Masen's car to the hotel and back. "What did I miss?" he asked expectantly, a big smile suggesting he knew full well. When no one said anything, he just clapped his hands together and began walking to the front. "By the way, father, turns out Tanya's suitcases and everything are gone and she checked out a couple of hours ago – she said to the hotel receptionist that she was flying to London." He arrived next to us, hands on his hips as if to say 'job well done'.

"Great," Caius muttered.

"How serendipitous," Helen observed shrewdly, looking at Carlisle.

My old headmaster simply shrugged and said, "Helen, I can say with total sincerity that I neither caused Tanya to pack her bags nor poor Ian to injure his ankle." He smiled at her, "So yes – very serendipitous indeed."

Helen looked at him coolly, "Good luck, Carlisle. I'll have no more to do with this sinking ship. And the board will be notified."

"I'll send them tonight's review," he replied, glancing at me and Edward with a knowing look.

"Good, then," she said, pulling out her phone as she turned and walked back down the stage steps. I watched her go in her sharp business suit, speaking sharply into her phone, hoping that it was the last time I would ever have to see Helen Fortescue.

Another silence was doomed to follow, but Vicky wisely clapped her hands, "Alright, everyone! Get back to your spots – no one said drama was a reason not to finish class!"

Carlisle gave her an appreciative nod. She smiled and gave me and Edward a wink before telling everyone to shut up and get their hands on the barre.

Emmett grinned at the both of us, his eyes alight, "This was almost as good as that time I put gum on Lauren's shoe!"

I laughed as he headed to his place.

"Shall we?" Carlisle said, and lead us off into the wings.

"I'm sorry about that," Edward said to me as we followed, glancing at me nervously.

I wove my fingers between his, "I understand."

"You'd better hope it's not broken," Carlisle said lightly, holding the stage door open for us. "Or all of your scheming will have been for nothing."

"Carlisle – " "Master Carlisle – " Edward and I both began simultaneously.

He chuckled and waved a hand to stop us, "I think it might be best if I don't know, _oui?_"

"Right," I breathed, exchanging a look with Edward as we followed Carlisle down one of the corridors.

He lead us upstairs and then out into the spacious and plush front of house where all the dress circle audience would come out for refreshments in the interval. Now, it was empty, a janitor vacuuming the red carpet. We briskly passed him and went through an archway into a café.

"Do you drink tea, Bella?" Carlisle asked as we approached the counter. "Edward has a ridiculous abhorrence for it – you might want to know that before making future decisions."

I laughed as Edward rolled his eyes, "I do drink tea."

"Good evening, Mister Cullen," said a cheery waitress, polishing a wine glass. "What can I get you today?"

Edward turned to face me as Carlisle placed our order. Gently, he placed his warm hand against my cheek, silently asking me, through those concerned, beautiful eyes, if I was alright.

I kissed his palm, letting his warmth reassure me as I reassured him.

The café was themed as a history of the Lyric Opera of Chicago, with black and white photographs of opera singers with their mouths wide open, dressed in ostentatious costumes. We sat at a little table by a dummy displaying a century-old Queen of the Night gown, covered in black gossamer and silver velvet.

"Why do we always end up like this?" Carlisle asked with a smile, looking between the two of us. "You two, breaking the rules and always, _always _getting away with it?"

"Creatures of habit," Edward suggested as we all remembered this exact same situation after the Review, when Carlisle had lead us nervously into his office to scorn us and then tell us we had done the right thing.

"Well," he said now, fitting his fingers together, "I don't believe any chastisement is necessary this time, since it clearly didn't work last time." He sighed, "And I believe you two have been through quite enough in these past few days."

I looked down at the lace tablecloth and tried not to let the specifics overwhelm me.

"All I need to know," Carlisle continued, looking at as with that serious gaze, "Is that you are going to be able to hold up through this performance – Jacob will still be around and there will be gossip and unbelievable pressure to do well. You have not rehearsed this at all together, not since you were both still at _Force."_

"Circumstances have changed," I murmured. The waitress brought over two teas for Carlisle and me, and a flat white for Edward.

Carlisle nodded his thanks and then replied, "Perhaps – you are stronger, indeed. But you are also far more tired – both of you. Edward, it looks like you have not slept for weeks and Bella, I have been watching you become paler and paler since we began this production."

Edward guiltily ran his hand over his stubble whilst I bit my lip, unable to deny it. I had been running off adrenalin for what seemed like days. The slightest reminder of how little sleep I had had and my mind wanted to simply shut down.

Carlisle chuckled again, pouring himself a cup of tea, "Don't worry – I leave this choice up to the two of you. Just know that if you do dance tonight, it will be without any rehearsal or rest. It's a risk."

"Do you think we can do it?" I asked quietly.

He paused in the ripping of a sugar sachet and looked at me amusedly, "I always believed you could, right back from when we first started at _Force."_

"That didn't go well," I said.

Carlisle smiled, "You would have gotten there. I warned you once that your path together was never going to be easy. Perhaps this is the final test. You've clearly made it through as a couple, now all that remains to be seen is whether you can make it as a partnership." He leaned back in his chair, holding his teacup and saucer like the graceful Frenchman I could never forget he was. He looked up at the cream-painted ceiling, eyes twinkling, "A partnership so strong that after months apart, both emotionally and physically, and no rehearsal but some long forgotten dregs from when you were both very, very different dancers, you still manage to pull through." He looked at the two of us, "I don't believe even Esme and I have had such a challenge."

"You're goading us," Edward said shrewdly, cradling his cup in his hands.

"I'm ensuring that you don't underestimate the enormity or the importance of this challenge."

I looked at Edward as I spoke, the line of my leg warm against his, "There was never any question. We have to do this."

He nodded and looked to Carlisle, "And we can do it."

Carlisle smiled and elegantly placed his tea cup back on the table, "Good, then."

"We should rehearse," I said swiftly.

"We should relax," Edward countered, putting his hand on mine as I went to get up.

"Actually," said Carlisle. "You're both going to sit here and drink whilst I talk Bella through everything I've been yelling at her to do for the past two weeks and then I talk you, Edward, through everything that you've missed."

I blushed, feeling awful for how I had discarded every piece of advice he'd given me.

One pot of tea turned into two, as did Edward's flat white, as we slaved through every scene in our heads, Carlisle explaining it all in minute detail. But not a word was said on our technique. All of it was interpretation – what the characters were meant to be feeling and pointing out all the hidden subtext which, until now, had been totally lost on me. Yes, I had dragged myself through the ballet last night almost convincingly, but there was a whole depth to the story that I had never bothered to think about.

When we began to hear guests arrive downstairs, Carlisle rose from the table, "We'll work on this more after tonight's over," he said. "But if worst comes to worst tonight, just use those instincts of yours."

"Thank you, Carlisle," I said sincerely.

He smiled, taking my hand in his, "It's good to have you back, Bella."

"I'm sorry for everything," I said. "I meant none of it."

He chuckled and patted my knuckles, "Oh, I'm sure you did at the time, but come back to _Force _and finish Third Year and all will be forgiven."

"What?" I breathed.

"Anthony Masen called," Carlisle said mildly. "And ordered, in no uncertain terms, for you to be accepted into Third Year at his expense. Of course, I would have ensured your return anyway but it sounded like some kind of a peace offering so I thought it best to take it, if you will, indeed, accept?"

"Of course," I said, shaking my head in disbelief. I looked at Edward, who had to submit to a smile. I knew his father couldn't buy him off so easily, but I also knew that Mister Masen was doing this for me, as well. He was honourable, just like his son. They both just had odd ways of showing it sometimes.

Carlisle grinned and pulled my into a hug, "Then welcome back, Miss Swan."

I felt tears rise under my eyelids, warm with emotion. _Do not soak your new headmaster's shirt, Bella, _I ordered.

When we pulled back, Carlisle gestured toward the upper lobby and balcony – people were beginning to come up in their cocktail dresses, pre-order numbers in one hand and tickets in the other. "Time to go, I think."

Edward and I both nodded.

"_Merde," _Carlisle said with a grin.

"Thanks," I said, nerves buzzing in me and, hand in hand, Edward and I left the café. Audience members stared as we hurried through their little groups, gawping excitedly – dancers, in the flesh! And Edward Masen, at that!

"I'm so nervous I think I'm going to be sick," I muttered as we reached the backstage stairwell.

Edward squeezed my hand, "Me too."

We glanced at each other and were suddenly running down the corridor in a fit of almost-hysterical laughter.

\*\*/*/

Everyone's excitement was heightened that night, as we passed the open doors of the dressing rooms. They, like us, were wondering whether this bizarre turn of events was going to pay off. At the stage door, Edward and I went our separate ways, exchanging one nervous kiss before we parted to our dressing rooms.

I found that Tanya had already rearranged the furniture of the room to her liking, and dumped all forgotten leotards off the chair and onto the floor. Huffing, I dragged the chair back to the dressing table and tried to start on my makeup with shaking hands. There was a knock on the door.

"Come in!" I called. Alice slipped in, already dressed in her Lady Capulet costume, grinning.

"Thought you could use a hand?"

I let out a sigh of relief, "You're a life saver, Alice."

It quickly became apparent that I was going to be hopeless at doing either my hair or my makeup, and Alice dutifully did both far better than I ever could, chatting away about how Ian was actually having a night out on the town right now with one of the properly injured guys. She was the best of friends – she knew I was only half listening at best, but the sound of her voice helped quell my nerves, which were rising and rising like an incoming tide.

"Bella!" she exclaimed as I pulled on my first dress – the day dress which I chased teddy bears and avoided Paris in. "This is ripped! Like, the whole way up the skirt."

I shrugged, seeing where the lace had torn, "It's fine - no one will notice. It's full of arabesques and pirouettes."

Alice shook her head, "I don't think Juliet was one for flashing her thighs, Bella. At least, not until the balcony scene." She gave me a reassuring smile and grabbed my sewing kit from the dressing table, "Don't worry, Bella. I'm fast and the orchestra hasn't even been cued yet."

"True," I said – nothing had come through the intercom on the wall, which all cues for performers to come to the stage were announced through. "I just want to make sure I'm there to see Edward's first variation."

"You will be," she replied happily, popping some pins between her lips. "Now stand still!"

I did so with difficulty and pinned me up and then began to sew, using the white thread I used for my pointes. Agitatedly, I rested my hands on my hips and tried to think of anything other than the huge audience we had seen in the foyer and the monumental task I had ahead of me. Carlisle was right – we were different dancers now. I had Monsieur Repin's technique firmly imbedded in me and Edward hadn't been able to dance with that same intensity since I left. I knew that we were the cure for each other, but I was worried it would take time. I was used to all these movements with Jacob, not Edward. They were polar opposites – it was going to feel totally different. I trusted Edward, I did, but what if we just weren't quite with each other and I came into a lift wrong. I could practically hear the crunch of my ankle against the hard stage floor. "I'm going to fall," I whispered, breaking into a cold sweat.

"No you're not," Alice said sternly from my knee. "Just think – all this will make your wedding day seem like a breeze!"

"My wedding day?" I squeaked.

She laughed, "Oh yeah. Think – how hard can it be to walk down an aisle after playing Juliet here?"

"I don't think that helps now," I murmured, but even so, I found myself imagining, for the first time ever, a wedding where I was the bride. Perhaps it was in a garden – that would be nice, after being cooped up in windowless theatres as a career. _Potential _career. And there would be petals falling from shady trees and Edward, for there was no one else I could possibly imagine as the groom, standing at the alter, staring at me with that perfect, subtle smile. I let myself explore all the details; the bouquets, the bridesmaids, the best man – Emmett or Jasper? It helped pass the time as Alice sewed the delicate fabric back together. I didn't let myself consider anything too deeply, as everything would lead back to now. But chair coverings and wedding music and a wedding dress weren't too taxing. Maybe I could arrive in a carriage, like I'd used to dream of when I was little, however silly that was. "It's helping…" I breathed.

"Well, I am a genius," Alice sung. "I've decided I'm getting married in Russia, in the Winter, in Jasper's home village and…"

She trailed off. I frowned, "And?"

"Bella," Alice said quietly. "Don't freak out but...someone's turned off your intercom."

* * *

><p>I'm sorry - you know me. There had to be one more twist...<p>

**So! Please review and let me know what you think of these last ten thousand words! Did Jacob deserve that beating? Will all of Bella and Edward's plans be foiled? And who switched Bella's intercom off and why?**

**I really hope you enjoyed! I'm going to get onto the next chapter right now and, with a little incentive and several cups of tea, I'll hopefully have it out before I leave to go up north tomorrow afternoon!**

**I think it will be the last chapter before the epilogue...I think...:(**

**Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!**


	44. Chapter 45

Hi everyone!

Thanks so much for your patience - the summer intensive seriously took it out of me and then after there were crazy meetings for planning and organizing the year ahead.

Final year of school starts in ten hours time...I wish I felt more excited but I would rather have another two months off.

**Thanks so much to all of you who reviewed!**

**I loved reading all your opinions and thoughts and inspiration!**

Please review!

And enjoy!

* * *

><p>"We should have noticed how quiet things were!" I exclaimed as we ran down the corridor, my pointes swinging from my hands. No one else was around – they would all be on for the opening scene. Or coming off from it. We had no idea how far through they were.<p>

"I should have noticed that the light was off!" Alice replied. "Who did this?"

I shook my head, puffing, "I have no idea." I had thought it was Tanya who'd been in and moved the chair over to the intercom, but it could have been anyone. Jacob could have stormed in

We rounded the corner, the stage door appearing in front of us. People were coming out – the peasant and the Montagues and Capulets in red and blue livery.

"Get out of the way!" Alice called as we pushed through. The opening scene was over, which meant my scene was _now. _We broke through the crush of people and out into the dark, hushed backstage area. "What are we up to?" Alice asked one of the backstage people as I quickly pushed my toes into my pointe and tied the ribbons in a knot, leave the ends dangling.

"Scene change into the bed chamber."

"Shit!" I cursed, leaving the other shoe off and running to the right wings. The stage was black. It was hard to see which wing I was looking for. There! The back one!

I ran head on and crashed straight into a tall, firm body.

"You're not going on stage tonight," said Seth, still in his peasant costume. I looked up at his gaunt face in the faint light from the other side of the stage. His arms were folded, his eyes resolved.

"What are you doing?" I gasped, trying to push him aside. It was then that I saw her over his shoulder. Leah. In my ball costume, flexing her feet nervously, staring out at the stage as the final props were wheeled on. "Leah!" I hissed. "What the Hell are you doing?"

She looked at me, her stage makeup thick and harsh, "I'm making sure you don't win."

"You don't know the part!" I exclaimed incredulously. "You can't dance this! You'll get thrown out of the NFSI!"

"I don't care," she snapped. "Just so long as I ruin this show and get Jacob's role back."

"Which he deserves," Seth added with a sneer, still not letting my pass.

I spun back around, wanting to get help, but Adela, Danny, Damien, Paul and Robbie had blocked the way back out. This wing was part of the set – wooden walls, not curtains. "You're making a mistake," I said hopelessly.

Seth shook his head, "We're Royals. We take care of our own."

"This won't make things better!" I said, then cut off as the lights began to come on on stage.

"Here goes," Leah whispered, shaking out her arms and legs. The warm lights lit up the sparkling tulle and satin of my dress.

"Jacob wouldn't want you to do this!" I exclaimed. "He wouldn't want you to ruin everything for him! I know you love him, I – " I looked at Seth, the flashing realization in my mind that he loved Jacob, too. "Please don't do this."

Leah gave me a smirk that was so like Jacob's, and made to step into the entrance of the stage.

"Leah!" came a shout from the other end of the wing. And there was thin, scraggly Lauren, grabbing Leah's arm and wrenching her back. She looked up at her without any fear, "If you don't let Bella go on then I will tell Caius and Carlisle what you and Jacob did to Charlotte to get her to leave."

"What?" Seth said, his surprise giving me the perfect opportunity to slip under his arm. The music had started, light and joyous.

"No!" Leah shouted, grabbing hold of me so I couldn't go on.

"Charlotte has promised to testify to Caius," Lauren continued urgently from behind us. "Caius will be forced to expel Jacob without any kind of qualification."

Leah had always been more heavily built than me – she was holding me tightly, her nails digging into my arms. "He doesn't need it."

"He does now," I gasped. "You know he does. He'll never get a job anywhere with his reputation."

"You'll be ending his career," Lauren said. "Let Bella go. Now."

And just like that, I was free. In a split second decision, I ripped the pointe shoe I had on from my foot, the ribbons tearing.

_Breathe, _I ordered and filled my lungs. _And out._

There were many things I had lost in the past few months. Some I had regained. Some still I prayed I would rediscover. Other things were gone for good. The Bella Swan of _Force, _who had walked up that cobblestone drive with the intention of entertaining a hobby, who had fallen in love with a guy she hadn't even spoken to and who had wanted nothing more than to dance freely – she was gone. Now, I had seen horrific betrayal, by fathers and boyfriends and friends and teachers. I had seen hatred in its purest, most potent form. And I had seen how love could ravish and repair life itself.

But I realized in that moment, as I stepped into the lights, that what I had lost had made me gain something. Something that would stand me in good stead, always. The knowledge that I could be whatever I wanted to be. Edward's girlfriend, a Royal, a _Force _Third Year, a teenage girl who was hopelessly in love. A technique-burdened robot and a careless, frivolous dancer. A horrible person and a forgiving person. A bad student and a quick study. My personality, just like most, was full of contradictions. And it was only with that knowledge that I realized, in this critical moment, that what Leah had just done did not need to affect me. None of it did.

I could be whatever I needed to be, like a painter picking a particular colour from his pallet. I was stronger now – I didn't need to throw all the colours together into one.

I focused on what Carlisle had told me back at the café. That Juliet was a silly, unconcerned fourteen year old, without a care in the World and yet she was passionate in whatever she did, which was why Romeo was soon going to take her by such a storm. She just poured her heart into everything, uncensored and unyielding, excited by fairytales and taken in by love stories.

And so, I carefully shed away the scars of the day. The sadness, the betrayal and even the deep, coveted warmth of Edward's return. I shed away the memories of a thousand rehearsals. I blocked out the feeling of kisses and embraces, of Leah scratching fingers on my skin, of the sweat on my forehead. And instead, I pulled out the nearest thing I had to what Carlisle had described – my first day at _Force, _when a minute of dancing from Edward had made me fall for him and a few snarky words from Tanya had made me eternally hate her. When I had immediately taken a liking to Angela and decided Lauren was not to be trusted. Back then, I didn't question. I just felt.

And into this, I threw all the impressions I had had back then of love – all mysterious and epic. For that, I decided, was what Juliet was dancing for. The silly, amazing idea of love.

With a rush of this silliness, I ran onto the stage, feeling my skirt swish around my calves, feeling like all of the World was just one fantastic adventure, waiting to be seen. I spun, the stage lights spinning and spinning with me as I looked up. My stocking feet made me feel less like a dancer and more like a young girl, throwing all propriety to the wind. Smiling was hardly enough – I wanted to laugh!

And then, when I saw Rosalie hastily being pushed out of the wings by Emmett and Alice, the Nurse's costume haphazardly thrown over her prostitute costume, one giggle did manage to bubble free. I remembered when I had first seen her, on that same night – how domineering she had seemed. How they had all seemed like untouchable, unmatchable giants. And now she was demurely sitting down on the chair, giving a grumpy glance in Emmett's direction as her headpiece slipped a little over her eyes.

I grinned and ran over, leaning over the back of the chair with my leg straight up to give her a peck on the cheek. She stood up furiously, with the perfect timing for me to snatch the bear from her.

Laughing, I step-turned away, holding the bear high above me, flashing Rosalie a poke of the tongue as I went.

She narrowed her eyes at me, but there was something in there which told me she realized how much I was giving to the character. Rosalie Hale was, of course, not to be out done. And, surprisingly, her Nurse was so convincing that I almost thought she'd gained fifty pound and twenty years. She bumbled toward me, grasping her tired back and reaching for the bear as I nimbly leapt away.

Teasingly, I crossed back to chair and gave the bear an affectionate kiss, enjoying this game we were playing. Rosalie gave an exaggerated sigh and bustled back over, holding her hands out to me, trying to reason with a sort of familiarity that Leah and I had never been able to attain. The Nurse and Juliet, Carlisle had told me, were meant to be best friends. With Leah and me, the audience had probably left thinking she was a cruel governess whom I hated.

I hugged the bear against my chest, Rosalie and I now facing each other over the chair. She was still trying to reason. A new memory came to me of me as a child, taking some game with my father too far – he was chastising me even as I continued on, not realizing it was time to stop. Now, I escaped from behind the chair and kept going, just like then, taking big, exciting leaps around the room whilst Rosalie was clasping her hands together in a desperate prayer.

Deciding a new game, I tossed the bear away and picked up her hands and spun around with her, like she was the Jack to my Rose and we were dancing on the Titanic – what romance! Meanwhile, she was frantically trying to keep a hold of her head piece as I spun her faster and faster.

The sound of the trumpets, though, made us both stop in our tracks. In perfect comedic timing, Rosalie grabbed the bear and thrust it behind her back and I quickly reached my hand behind my own back and managed to get hold of one of the legs. And so, as Jasper and Alice regally entered through my bedroom door, the audience was laughing raucously at me and Rosalie's secret tug of war.

Treating Jasper as my father was not hard. I had always been close to Charlie, and Jasper had seen me go through a lot himself, always with that calm, constant air. I ran to him, letting Rosalie have the long-forgotten bear, and gave him a whole hearted hug, almost knocking him off balancing.

Alice's look of high importance made me forget she was my best friend, and I decided that Juliet was closer to her powerful, loving father than her cool, fashionable mother. We exchanged a polite kiss on either cheek.

Joseph once again made his entrance and, without a second's hesitation, I remembered my fear of Mike's touch on the first day of partnering. I had been so inexperienced with pas de deux and he had been so enthusiastic.

_Remember that the only male figures in Juliet's life are her father and her cousin, Tybalt. And now they're expecting her to just accept Paris as her husband._

I felt the nerves in the pit of my stomach. Joseph offered his hand. I took it, feeling queasy at the sensation of his fingertips on mine. And then he brought my knuckles to his lips. I shook as he kissed them, and then, as soon as he let go I shrunk away, tiptoeing back behind the safe and protective Rosalie. The lack of pointes was starting to get in the way – it was hard to keep in time when I was trying not to slip. But any clumsiness, I knew, could all be covered up by my character – just for tonight.

Jasper was insistently leading Joseph to me, just like Edward had nonchalantly agreed for Mike to be my partner. I pressed myself against Rosalie's back, hiding my face in the back of her wimple. But even she was submissive to Jasper's commands, and had to pull me out from behind her.

Joseph offered his hand to me again. It only took a touch this time and I decided I could have no more of it – the feeling was too foreign. I desperately leapt around my bed chamber again, this time just to feel something normal, and not Joseph's unknown, weird touch.

Eventually, Jasper and Alice had to give up and lead Joseph away. Rosalie hastily went to me as I stood unhappily in the middle of my room. Gently, she put her hands on my shoulders and then, in a move which Leah and I hadn't even dared to attempt from feeling too weird, she gestured to my chest.

I innocently looked down, and all of a sudden realized that I was turning into a woman.

The lights went down with us in that position. Quickly we slipped off.

"That was fun," Rosalie said unexpectedly, giving me a rare smile before she headed for the stage door.

The lights were quickly up on the next scene. I knew Edward would be running on in his cloak and mask from the other side, but my pointes were still behind the stage and I knew one of them seriously needed attention. Thankfully, Alice was one step ahead of me, sitting on the chair which had just been brought off stage, pushing a needle through the satin.

"Thank you," I breathed, only just realizing how out of breath I was.

"Leah left you your dress," she said, nodding to where it lay on the ground, crumpled.

"I'm sorry," I said as I hastily put it on, "I'm distracting you from your performance – "

"You're in the zone," she said, stopping her sewing to zip me up. "Don't get out of it; it's your night tonight."

I nodded and put my hands on my hips, pacing up and down and trying to catch my breath as I listened to the music. Romeo and his friends were sneaking into the party so that he could catch a glimpse of his beloved Rosaline. He, like me, recklessly followed his heart, right into the enemy's house.

By the time I had put on my repaired pointe shoes and gone round to the correct wing, my cue was almost upon me. With my two lines of dancers, I entered. But they were not dancers – they were my friends, dressed in the same short dresses as I was, looking infantile and free compared to the richly-dressed ladies already in the ballroom. I interacted with these friends of mine as I performed my variation. I was still in my own little world of romance novels and silliness, and I didn't care that all these official-looking people were about. I didn't feel their judgemental gazes, just like I had never worried about the audience when I was dancing at the Review. Besides, old people were boring.

The end of my variation was drawing near. I couldn't help the flutter of nerves in my stomach as performed my final chaine turn. A step onto pointe, a turn, my skirt swishing around me, and then down, only to suddenly be facing a breath-taking, tall, handsome man whose green eyes stared at me behind a plain black mask.

My lips parted, my whole body stopping in its lively movements to look at this boy who could somehow make the room disappear around us. My heart thudded in my chest as if for the first time. As if everything before now was obsolete and pathetic – pale in comparison to the vibrant emerald of his eyes. There was no moment for this – no memory. Because this was how I felt every time I looked at Edward. From the first time I had seen him in that studio to when he had walked in at the start of the NFSI to when I had cried out for him at the airport; this was the power of my love for him, laid bare for the whole world to see.

When one of the girls stepped in and offered me the lute, I snapped out of his gaze, taking the lute and sitting down shyly. Because no amount of romance novels could quite prepare me for the feelings stirring in me. And it wasn't just his gaze – it was his height and masculinity; the way he towered over me with his strong muscles and broad chest. Everything about him screamed for me to run away and never let him leave at the same time.

And so I sat on my low stool and began to pluck a twinkling tune. My friends once again began to dance, all spritely and pretty, smiling as they spun and jumped to my music.

But then _he_ came through the two lines, lifting his leg in a perfect arabesque, his arms rising toward me, his eyes set on my face. A smile crept upon his lips as I nervously looked up, and like that, he swept his arms around, turning on the ball of his foot, his leg never dropping as he went around in a glorious turn, as if he were caught in the same inescapable whirlwind of emotion that I was in. And then, as the turn ended, he brought his leg down and looked back at me. I kept playing, trying not to show how my breath was increasing threefold. And so he went on, in a display of strength and control and feeling that transfixed every single person on that stage.

Like Romeo had finally found his love, Edward had finally found the freedom in his dancing again – the pain stopping him from dancing like he once had had eased, and happiness and excitement and sheer joy in each step seemed to flow from him, infectious and unyielding. Jacob could command the eye with 'near perfect' lines and technique, but Edward commanded more – when he danced, he could command people's hearts and toil with their emotions, pulling them into whatever anxiety or ecstasy he was feeling.

He went into the last in a set of pirouettes, the muscles in his thighs showing through his white tights and sweat beading on his forehead, and looked back at me once more. I looked at him hopelessly, still playing. But he had had enough. He came toward me.

_Keep playing, _I demanded as he approached and resolutely kept my eyes forward. Seeing this, he circled me instead. I could feel his gaze on me – could hear his laboured breathing and feel the movement of each of his steps as a tiny breeze on the back of my neck. I knew the question he was asking – why not? I clearly wanted him…

But then my friends came back on, sweeping him back into a group dance. He dutifully lifted them and turned them but always – _always – _his eyes returned to me. Like a kid makes sure he talks louder when his crush is in the room, this boy was dancing for me. _Me!_

Soon enough, though, Emmett charged on in, disrupting the pleasantries of the ball and causing a crowd of disapproving aristocrats to separate Juliet from the masked boy.

But then the ballroom began to clear, Emmett signalling to Edward that he didn't have long. I watched him for a moment, looking around hopefully for me as the last couples left. He spotted me and made toward me. I could not wait – I ran to him, as well, and yet stopped short once we were a foot apart. What was I meant to do? He clearly felt what I did for him but, well…what next?

Then, tentatively, he reached out and ran a hand lightly down my arm. I inhaled shakily at this first touch, which was sending sparks through my skin. His fingers reached mine and my heartbeat spiked. I hastily stepped away, but he was insistent – he wrapped an arm around my waist, another on my inner thigh, and lifted me, letting both me and Juliet soar to the heights of heaven as I leaned back into him, my head on his shoulder.

A vein pulsed in his neck, his eyelids shutting we turned, intoxicated by each other – by this feeling – until the music changed, signalling Gerry's furious entrance.

Edward hastily set me down and with one final squeeze of my hand, he ran out of the ballroom, Mercutio and Benvolio meeting him at the door.

The scene went on, with my only intention now to get through it as soon as possible, so as to be back in Edward's arms once more.

I ran off as soon as Paris let my feet touch the ground. Backstage was so dark after the harsh spotlight. I felt the pats on the back from the corps dancers who were waiting to go on but I hardly saw their faces as I hurried by. Sweat was shining on my chest and neck and I was sure my makeup was sliding off. I thought that this dancing would be easier than Monsieur Repin's way, but it wasn't mindless anymore. The emotional attachment was far more tiring than any one step.

It seemed like no time before I was climbing the step ladder up to my balcony. Below me, the cast was gathering in the wings to see the most iconic scene in the whole ballet. My tummy fluttered as I reached the top. My cue sounded and I stepped out, trying to exhale as I went to the banister of the balcony and gazed out at the black sea of the audience. Carlisle had told me this was one of my weakest moments. After all, I was useless when I wasn't performing a difficult enough step, let alone simply standing still and acting. Remembering his advice, I chanted in my head, _Romeo, Romeo – wherefore art thou Romeo? Why must you be untouchable? So out of my league? A third year, a star already, a teacher, a perfect dancer?_

Edward ran out of the wings, his great black cloak billowing behind him as he entered the one place it was most dangerous for him to go. He danced below me, touring the stage in a great oval of high, perfect leaps. His face showed all the exhilaration of love and dance – the two things he held dearest. I felt the wide smile on my face and realized there wasn't going to be much acting required for this pas de deux.

As he finally came to rest and extended his hand to me, I didn't even remember all my fears and mistakes from our first rehearsal of this with Carlisle. It felt right – natural. I flitted down the steps, leaping the last three and landing lightly on the stage floor. I ran in a circle, realizing he had disappeared. And then a hand grabbed mine and he was there. I stepped in close to him, bringing his hand to my ribs and staring into his eyes. We paused only for a moment before his expression became cheeky.

He grinned and pulled himself away, throwing himself into another set of jetes and grande cabrioles in a circle around me; a relentless serenade of his feelings. It was then that he looked at his most boyish and wild – something I had hardly seen in him, given our seemingly-constant state of problems. But I realized that this was how I made him feel, deep inside. It warmed me, through every bone and hair until I could do nothing but dance with him, letting him spin me faster and faster on my pointe, my night gown flying up around me and then he pulled me up into his arms, letting me glide along the stage without ever touching it, the air wooshing over my face and body. He lowered me straight onto my pointe and graciously held my waist as I enjoyed every arabesque and attitude, my working leg stretching and bending, languishing in the ease of dancing with a partner who knew exactly how to balance and support and turn me through every little change.

Another lift, each one seeming to be higher and more heartfelt than the last, and then he lowered me down the length of his body. Our breath mingled. His lips – so close…but these feelings were too intense. Like he had once done, I turned and ran away, making for my stairs.

He reached his hand out, stopping me as he sunk to his knees. Unable to stop myself, I ran to him. He desperately wrapped his arms around my thighs, pressing his cheek against the white fabric of my gown, shutting his eyes, begging me not to go. I felt tears prickling, all of a sudden making the moment melancholic. I knew the audience would think that we were realizing that this was real – this couldn't just be childish love. He was a Montague – this couldn't work. But as Edward looked up at me, his green eyes glittering with tears, all I could see was my final glance back at _Force, _the night I had left; Edward standing in the second floor window. This had been his pain. This had been what he had truly been feeling – the intense, intense need to stop me. He rose slowly to his full height, his eyes never leaving mine as he gently ran his thumb down my cheek. Oh, how I wanted to kiss him then. The need was so overpowering that it was only the indoctrinated beat of Jacob's counting in my head which made me pull away, once again remembering that I was timid Juliet, not the Bella who was yearning for true caresses after every fake, dishonest kiss from Jacob.

The dance could only go on as Edward wore me down to where desperation took over innocence. He spread his arms wide and I ran, turning away from to him at the very last second, so that he caught me and lifted me high into the air, pushing adrenalin through my veins. I hadn't even thought to hesitate with Edward – not like I had with Jacob. I trusted him as he caught me again, raising me up above everything. I stared at the shining stage lights above me like they were stars, all gazing kindly upon us. Edward turned me, holding me at the waist, and my pretend universe gently revolved until we had come full circle. Once more, my toes touched the ground and he was so close. _So close…_

...but I ran to the front corner of the stage, the conductor's baton waving past. No, no! I couldn't kiss him! But this time, Edward ran after me, grabbing my hand and spinning me round before I had a chance to think. We let go. The music hushed. That was the end of the pas de deux. Now, we were just a girl and a boy. And though nothing had been done, in that moment I knew I was ruined. He stepped forward, breathing heavily. I stepped toward him. Our hands by our sides, he slowly leaned in, filling my vision. His lips touched mine. One touch, and then his hands were picking me up, pulling me to him as we kissed. My pointes scarcely touched the floor. I hesitantly rested my hands on his muscled back and, trying with all my might to stay as Juliet, let him lead me in this new experience. It was torture – like keeping everything bottled so tight that a second more of it would end me. But I could feel him holding back, too. His hands held the sides of my arms tightly, his mouth staying painfully still, as Carlisle had embarrassingly instructed.

Thankfully, the music swayed on and I pulled away, pressing a hand to my lips. Dizzyingly, as if he had put me into a dream, I drifted back up the stairs and onto my balcony. He watched me go, and then turned to the front. He pressed his hand to his heart and looked up into the gods of the audience, so in love that he could not fathom what was going to happen next. I could see his fist, though, clenched just behind him, showing that his tension was not gone.

The stage went dark. The curtains shut on the first act.

My legs shook as I climbed back down the ladder. People were applauding in the wings and, I guessed, in the audience, but I could hardly hear them.

_Makeup, _I tried to remind myself. _Makeup…dressing room…_

I made my way into the narrow crossover, which was lit in a weak blue light. I didn't notice Edward charging in the opposite direction until I was about to collide with him. We both stared at each other in shock, my mouth falling open as everything lit up inside me.

"That was – "

"I know."

It was impossible to resist – he pressed me against the cold wood of the wall and kissed me thirstily, his hands grasping my hips as my arms locked around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. Our tongues battled, our nails dug into each other's hot, enraged skin. And when I had to gasp for breath, he kissed my neck, my cheeks, my collarbone as my fingers tugged at his hair, running down his spine.

"Not here," I breathed, even as I brought his mouth back to mine.

"When?" he demanded, covering my lips in kisses as he lifted me, my legs around his hips.

"Later," I groaned, just as the thud of footsteps and then a chorus of girlish giggles broke us out of our fervour.

"Don't mind us!" exclaimed a girl I recognised from _Force. _There was a whole load of them, standing at the end of the crossover.

I glanced at Edward. He quickly realized he was still holding me around his waist. We clumsily detangled and moved back against the wall to let everyone file past.

"Makeup," I murmured eventually in the startled silence that followed.

Edward awkwardly cleared his throat, "Ballet belt."

I nodded and carefully stepped past him – one more touch out of sight of a chaperoning audience could have been lethal – and went on my way.

Interval was half an hour, and it took me twenty minutes of that to cover up the blush that had burnt through my foundation. Fortunately, there was a knock on the door to distract me. Carlisle came in, his suit jacket slung over his arm and a grin on his face. "_Époustouflante, _Bella," he said, giving me a hug. "Breath-taking."

"Thank you," I said, smiling.

"But where were your shoes in your first scene?"

I looked down, wringing my hands as I remembered what Leah had tried to do. It seemed like a ridiculous idea – to put herself on without a clue of the role, just to ruin one scene. But it had been clever, too. Helen and the board would only need the slightest reason – the slightest criticism in one of the reviews – to convince everyone that Carlisle was incapable of running a production. He would be ruined, the production would be cancelled and Edward and I would lose our roles. And if Edward lost his role then his contract would force him to leave on the next flight.

But Lauren, of all people, had saved the day. And whatever promise she'd made to Leah, I would have to honour.

"The ribbon ripped just before I went on," I told Carlisle with a shrug, "The only thing to do was take off the other one."

He nodded and gave me a pat on the shoulder, "Well, I don't think it detracted at all, Miss Swan. I'm sure the next act will be just as magnificent."

\*\*/*/

I was careful to be side stage before the act two beginners' call this time, and when the audience began to quieten behind the thick red curtains, I slipped onstage to where the big elevated bed was placed. Comfortable as it looked to the audience, it was just the tomb covered with white fabric and pillows. I lay down and stared up at all the rigging above the stage as the overture played, once again having to face my nerves.

"Sorry!" Edward whispered, rushing on from the other side, hastily fixing his shirt to look dishevelled. He climbed up next to me, "Jacob's left his dressing room in a tip."

I smiled, turning onto my side to look at him, "Like yours wouldn't be."

He raised his eyebrows at me as he leaned back on his elbow, putting a hand on my ribs, "I happen to be a very organised dancer, Miss Swan."

I grinned and snuggled into the crook of his shoulder, "Whatever you say, _sir."_

He began to retort but we heard the curtains being drawn back. "What's the first step?" Edward suddenly whispered, pretending to check that I was asleep.

"Get your cloak and go to the window," I told him sleepily.

I felt his smiling lips as he kissed my forehead, "Thank you."

As I lay there, hearing the soft pad of Edward's feet on the floor, I reminded myself that Edward hadn't performed the whole ballet before – he hadn't even rehearsed it for over a month; his only reference was what Jacob had done. I might have been nervous, but Edward was, for once, the one with less experience. Still, he danced with the confidence of a dancer who knew that whatever step he performed, wrong or right, would look perfect if it was performed with passion. And he had plenty of that tonight.

The bedroom pas de deux quickly became my favourite of all of them, for here it was enough to simply celebrate our love for one another. So many times, he would try to leave only to have me pull him away from the open window. He was unable to resist pulling me into his arms – unable to resist kissing me and holding me. And I just wanted to keep dancing, letting him spin me and lift me high and wrap his arms around me.

But the sun was rising. And we all knew, the audience as well as us, that this could not go on. Romeo had to leave. My steps became more frantic. He gave me a final kiss and I pulled his hands around my waist and rose up into an arabesque, forcing him to support me – forcing him to stay. He tried to step back, reaching up to the sky, but I followed, standing en pointe and twining my arm around his, pulling it back across my chest. He couldn't go. He couldn't…

Edward kissed me cheek, wincing at the pain of having to step away. But I sunk to the ground, my hands at his ankles, begging. Edward looked up in a desperate prayer, his fists clenching, his face tortured. Tortured – just how he had looked when he had tried to explain Tanya's kiss to me. The pain of hurting me had consumed him, and he let it do so again, with me lying at his feet, weeping for him not to go when he knew he had to.

Eventually, he knelt down and lifted me up, his hands the only thing keeping me from falling back down again. I stared at him, stroking his face and thinking that perhaps he would stay – perhaps we could keep dancing?

And so I turned and leapt and pirouetted and then, coming out of the turn, just stopped, my energy leaving me. I put a hand to my stomach. Who was I kidding? Of course he had to leave. I couldn't get in his way or he would die.

Romeo saw this change in me. Tentatively, he came to me, gently turned me to face him. He cupped my face in his hands. Desperate, I laid kisses over his cheeks and lips, possessed as I felt that overwhelming pain that had come last night, when I had told him to go to London. I had wanted him to stay as much as Juliet wanted her Romeo to stay. Eventually, Edward gave me a firm shake by the shoulders, then gently laid one last kiss on my mouth.

Then he tore himself from me, snatching his cloak from where it lay on the floor and climbed out the window.

It was the last time Juliet would ever see him alive.

\*\*/*/

Already in my final costume, I spent the rest of the show in the wings, watching as Romeo heard of Juliet's death and went to buy the deadly poison. Edward performed every tragic step with such passion that no one backstage was talking – we were all watching with bated breath as he danced his last variation, the bottle in his hand. Alice and Jasper stood next to me, Alice's hand clutching his, both of them watching as he gave his very soul to the final steps. I was lucky to have ever seen such a dancer onstage, let alone be his girlfriend and partner.

The final scene came too quickly. I lay on the tombstone, listening as Romeo fought with Paris. Both of them were gasping as they parried and jabbed. I suspected that Edward was trying not to unleash his full anger on poor Joseph, who, always unlucky, was the Jacob of Romeo and Juliet's love triangle. Except that Paris was just an unfortunate suitor, not a bastard who had deliberately put himself in my path to destroy me and Edward.

With Paris lying dead on the ground, Edward made his way up to me and we began that final pas de deux.

When Edward had performed this with me in San Francisco, it had been with the idea – the knowledge – that we were never going to be together again. I was with Jacob, I still hadn't forgiven him, and he knew he was going to London. All our unspoken thoughts had been poured into that dance.

And so I don't believe that we could have ever danced the death scene as well as we did on that night. But tonight still had the memories of all that pain – we had plenty to draw on, even if it was not so raw. As I gazed down at my beautiful, perfect Edward, stroking his face one last time, I let myself be filled not with sorrow, but with hope. Hope for the future – that we would be strong enough to face whatever was to come next, in London or in the States or wherever our lives took us. Hope that we would at least have the rest of this tour together. It was these prayers that fuelled the final seconds of my performance.

As I clutched my wounded stomach, I traced the line of Edward's lips and then rested my head on his chest, finally closing my eyes to the light.

The final notes played and there was absolute silence. The curtains slid shut. Still, nothing – not a word, not a breath. Not a single clap.

Slowly, I raised my head from Edward's chest, frowning at him. He opened his eyes, his brow furrowed. My heart began to beat faster and faster, nerves burning through me. What if they hadn't liked it? What if Jacob reigned supreme?

I glanced into the wings. Everyone was looking around awkwardly. And there – there was Jacob, looking directly at us, his arms folded, smirking.

Edward sat up, glaring at him, an arm around my waist.

Jacob's shoulder shook in a chuckle, then he shrugged.

I looked toward the closed curtains, as if I would somehow be able to see the audience behind them. But it was so silent that I didn't even know for sure that there was actually an audience there.

But then, from the corner of my eye, I saw Alice turned into Jasper's chest, a tear slipping down her cheek. Emmett was staring into nothing, a hand stroking his stubble, whilst Rosalie was biting her lip, hard.

And then Carlisle was pushing through the crowd in the wings.

"Edward," I whispered breathlessly, because Carlisle was grinning. His eyes were alight as he nodded to us, blowing me a kiss and then shaking his head in amazement. Then, he gestured for us to get up.

Confusedly, we stood. Carlisle waved to the stage manager, who spoke into his headset. My heart was beating like a kick drum now – I could feel it. Edward and I stood hand in hand, holding each other tightly, lest our nerves destroy us.

The curtains began to open, the house lights rose.

And just like that, the Civic Theatre erupted with the cheers and shouts of three and half thousand people. They were all on their feet, screaming and whistling. Cries of 'bravo' and 'brava' could scarcely be heard in the stamping of feet and the clapping of hands – applause that sounded like a hailstorm. It was deafening.

"Take your bows, _mes etoiles!"_ Carlisle called over the raucus – the cast had joined in, too, shouting their delight and jumping up and down. Alice was laughing, tears still streaming down her cheeks as Jasper wrapped his arms around her, grinning unabashedly at us.

I glanced at Edward, not knowing what to say. With a nervous smile, he ushered me forward like the gentlemanly danseur he was, one hand lightly on my back. As soon as we moved, the applause seemed to double. I couldn't even hear myself think as we reached the front of the stage. In front of us, the conductor bowed his head, a grin on his face. The orchestra had downed their bows and instruments and were all clapping.

I could see the faces of the audience now – all the people who had just watched me pour my heart out for the past two and a half hours. An old man sitting by the aisle, pushing up his glasses as he called out. A little girl in a pink fairy tutu in the front row, being held up by her rich-looking father, clapping her tiny hands together. A couple a few rows back, resting their heads together as they clapped. Three women, dressed in elegant attire, were all chattering ecstatically as they wiped away tears. In the back, by the doors, even the uniformed ushers were whistling and shouting.

"Ready?" Edward asked unsteadily, then stepped back for me to curtsy.

I blinked and tried to focus. _Left side of the theatre first, _I told myself. I realized that one curtsy probably wouldn't do it tonight. I went to the left, raising my left arm to all the people in the dress circle and gods – their volume increased as I did so. _Step to the side, one leg behind the other…bend the knees._ I lowered, bringing my left hand to my chest. Behind me, Edward would be giving a slight bow, hand on his chest like mine. Rising back up, we went to the right, repeating the same thing but opposite. Hands rose, clapping above their heads as we tried to thank them for a reception we would never forget.

And then we finally came to the centre. I raised my left hand, then my right. They crossed over my head as I lowered down, my dress pooling around me. I brought my arms down in a wide circle, my head bowing and my hands crossing my chest. I shut my eyes for a moment, letting the sound of the audience wash over me for a moment. It was surreal. And so, so thrilling.

I finally rose and Edward stepped forward to take my hand once more. The audience clamoured as we smiled at each other. With a wink, Edward suddenly brought my knuckles to his lips, watching me cheekily as the audience went even wilder. I couldn't help but giggle as he straightened back up and ushered me politely offstage.

Carlisle was definitely good at reorganisation – the rows of the corps filed out as we left, all of them grinning. The audience didn't let them down, either.

Meanwhile, Edward pulled me into a hug, both of us laughing. "I can't believe it!" I exclaimed against his chest as we rocked from side to side, neither of us knowing what to do with the insane energy the audience had given us.

Edward stroked my curled hair, his green eyes alight, "We did it."

We both laughed, our foreheads touching, in our own little world.

"I am not going out there!" It would, of course, be Jacob to break us out of it.

We stepped out of the wing and into the backstage area, where all the soloists were looking on as Jacob, dressed in his extravagant Prince costume, snarled at Carlisle, "This is a fucking joke!"

Carlisle sighed, though he didn't really seem the slightest bit concerned by Jacob's refusal, "Mister Black, I only wish for you to take credit for your performance tonight. Or would you rather the critics start questioning why Jacob Black didn't make his curtain call? Because I will tell them the truth – you were having a tantrum."

Jacob glared at him, "The critics wouldn't have even noticed me."

"Actually," said Carlisle. "The attitude and flippancy you showed on stage had the people sitting around me talking, so I would not be so sure. Now hurry up."

Jacob shot us a glare before he charged past Alice and Jasper and onto the stage.

Alice gasped as he passed, suddenly putting a hand to her mouth.

"What is it?" Jasper asked immediately. Emmett, Rose, Edward and I moved in closer.

"You know how the Prince always stands at the back in his two scenes?" Alice said.

We all looked at each other confusedly.

"Yes," Jasper nodded.

Alice bit her lip, "You know how I was meant to repair the Prince's pants?"

Edward snorted, "No way!"

Quickly, we all went into the nearest wing and watched as Jacob Black, 'second best' danseur in America, strode onto the stage, reached the front and gave a sarcastic, sweeping bow which, as he bent over, exposed his untanned behind, hardly obscured by his thong ballet belt. The rows of dancers behind him suddenly became very still, trying not to laugh.

Jacob grumpily backed up to join a row of other minor characters, unaware of how perfectly he had received his final comeuppance.

"Rosalie, you next," Carlisle instructed soon after, whilst we were all still in fits of giggles. "Since you miraculously doubled as prostitute and nurse." He gave Emmett a look, "Though I don't understand how Leah could get sick so easily."

"That was why Rose was on?" Edward asked as she gracefully curtsied.

"I think it must be flu," Alice said happily. "But I'm sure she'll be better by tomorrow night."

Edward raised an eyebrow at her. I patted him on the arm, "Later."

Soon, Alice and Jasper and Emmett and Gerry had all taken their bows to thunderous applause and, with a wink, Carlisle sent us out for the full company bow. The audience hadn't lost any energy just yet, and they roared as we led the company forward, the girls following me in my curtsy and the boys all in time with Edward.

But it wasn't over. After several whole-company bows, they closed the curtains. The stage manager then opened up a gap – enough for us to get through.

And, with the mastery of a man who had performed thousands in his career, Carlisle orchestrated the curtain calls, starting with Emmett and Gerry and then, after three for Alice and Jasper, he sent us out. The same routine of three curtsies and bows was repeated, then we ran off, only to have Carlisle waved us on for another.

After the third, we came back in with exhausted, satisfied smiles.

"Again!" Carlisle ordered incredulously. "Don't you hear them?"

It was true – they were still standing. We went out again and again and again. The father had to put the little girl down on the seat, where she jumped up to see us, clapping and clapping excitedly. The old man had sat down again, but was still there, shouting for us. I didn't see a single person leave, though there surely must have been a few.

"Keep going," Carlisle commanded. Behind him, Alice, Jasper, Emmett and Rosalie were standing in a line, sticking one finger up for each time we came back. The rest of the cast were all chanting out the number as it rose and rose.

I tried to show the appreciation in my face as we faced the thousands of people. I understood what it was like to clap and clap and clap – you only had to go to a Forks High School prize giving for that. But these people were staying voluntarily, just for us! And there was a part of me that wasn't really sure why. I had been so wrapped up in my own emotions that I hadn't even thought about the audience, and yet here they stood, forty minutes after curtain down on the final scene.

Eventually, the applause began to lower. Carlisle, with his perfect instincts, told us, "One more – make it clear."

And so we stepped out and just performed one curtsy and bow, then stood and smiled for a moment. The applause reached its final crescendo. Edward gave a charming nod to them all and as we turned back into the gap in the curtain, the audience picked up their coats, hands red and sore, voices hoarse, and left, still chattering noisily as we emerged in front of the cast.

"THIRTY NINE!" they all shouted and launched themselves on us in a massive, sweaty hug.

\*\*/*/

It felt like hours later by the time I finally reached my dressing room. I stared at myself as I wiped off my thick stage makeup and exchanged my dress for normal clothes. My day had been unfathomable. Amazing. Terrifying…

"Bella?" Edward peeked in.

"Hmm," I hummed, turning to look at him as I took out the last of my bobby pins. "Does being my boyfriend mean no knocking?"

"Ah," he said, wandering in, already ready to go in his jeans and coat. "So I'm your boyfriend once more? And even you would have had to be dressed by now."

I smiled, enjoying this relaxed, open Edward, whom I had seldom seen throughout our short history.

He sat down on a box beside me, taking my hand and gently beginning to unwind the sports tape around his mother's ring. My ring… "I can't go back with you tonight – the airline returned my suitcase to the apartment and I don't think Carlisle would appreciate me coming to class in jeans tomorrow."

"You could always wear Jacob's pants," I murmured, though my mind was thinking very differently. I pressed my lips and watched as the little sapphires appeared from behind the tape, "Couldn't we get there and back before the hotel staff lock up?"

Edward nodded, "We could, if I was fast."

"I don't want to leave you," I said thoughtlessly, then glanced up at him, "I'm not clingy, I swear – it's that I just got you back."

He covered my hand with his, "Bella, I know. You're the strongest person I've ever met. No one could describe you as clingy."

"I was with Jacob," I muttered, thinking of all the mushy things I had said to him in an attempt to keep him from getting angry with me. "I was pathetic."

Edward was about to reply when there was a knock on the door.

"Knocking!" I said teasingly to him, before calling, "Come in."

Both of us paused when Lauren walked in, dressed in black. She, too, froze when she saw Edward sitting with me. "Edward," she breathed, but he looked away, his jaw taut.

"Lauren," I said, trying to sound kind as I stood up.

"What do you want?" Edward muttered.

"Edward," she said weakly, stepping toward him. "I'm sorry – I didn't realize that Jacob was doing it all to get back at you. I thought it was just aimed at Bella."

I gave her a look, "I don't think that's going to help, Lauren."

Edward just looked at me dryly, then stood up, "I don't think a few hours is going to be long enough to forgive you," he muttered. "Bella, I'll meet you at the car."

"Edward," I sighed, marching to the door before he could open it. He appraised me with angry eyes, though I knew it was not directed at me. But still, I matched him coolly, "Lauren has tried to make amends; without her I wouldn't have even made it on stage tonight. At least listen to her."

Edward sighed but leant back against the door and gestured for Lauren to begin. Her story was simple – typical, really, to the point where I should have seen it coming. After I had introduced her to Leah, they had become good friends and by the time we had left on tour, Leah had told her about how Jacob had gotten her to bully Charlotte, the previous scholarship student at Aro's, into leaving. It hadn't been pretty – Charlotte had had a crush on Gerry, which Leah had gleefully exploited, making sure she turned all the Royals against her in the process. And from there, it was easy to make her feel so unhappy and hated that she left. So Lauren really had known all along that Jacob was out to get me. It was just that she, like Leah, hadn't known that Jacob was really targeting Edward. But unlike Leah, she cared about Edward.

"But by the time I realized what was going on, you were back here and everything seemed to be sorted out – you were both leads." She was still trying to appeal to Edward, but he was looking resolutely at the floor, his arms folded. "But then when I heard Leah talking about how she was going to ruin the performance by switching your intercom off and seeing how much she could screw up before you worked it out, I realized that I had to do something."

"Why didn't you just come and get me?"

"Because that was literally two seconds before you showed up! And then when Seth wouldn't let you pass, I had to improvise."

I frowned, "But you said you'd spoken to Charlotte."

Lauren gave me a blunt look, "Please, she looks about as robust as wet tissue paper. She would never have told on them."

An involuntary smile had crept unto my face, "So you pretended that Charlotte would testify against them to stop Leah in that critical moment."

"And therefore saved the day," she completed. "And scared Leah off."

"Where is she?" I asked.

Lauren shrugged, studying my sparse makeup collection disinterestedly. "She trashed my dressing area but apart from that, I have no idea. Probably trying to make Jacob feel better – she's disgustingly into him." She looked at Edward, "So? Am I forgiven?"

He still wouldn't look at her, "This doesn't change what you let Jacob do to Bella."

"Edward – " she began, but I gave her a warning look. When Edward was shut off, there was very little you could do.

Lauren rolled her eyes and turned back to me, "Look, I came here to just ask you not to tell Ben what's happened. I don't need him hating on me, too."

Edward suddenly shifted, pushing himself off the door, "I'll forgive you if you tell him."

"What?" Lauren spluttered. "Do you seriously want me to lose the most important person left in my life? Are you trying to ruin all my happiness over this – "

"I'm trying to save your relationship," Edward said, then conceded, "And teaching you a lesson."

She looked away distastefully, "You and your freaking lessons."

Edward put a hand on her shoulder. "Lauren, I have learnt that honesty is by far the most important thing in any relationship. You have to trust that Ben loves you enough to help you through this, like he has so far."

Lauren's glare very soon turned to some kind of understanding between the two of them. They had a connection – the knowledge of what it's like to truly lose someone. And Lauren trusted him because of that. She nodded cautiously, "Fine."

Edward smiled and gave her a quick hug, patting her on the back. She returned it before picking up her bag and opening the door. But she turned to look at me, "Oh, by the way, Bella, I wouldn't get too big-headed. Rosalie miscounted – it was only thirty eight."

I grinned as the door swung shut, "She's like your sister."

Edward sighed, shaking his head, "Let's get out of here before someone else confesses."

\*\*/*/

The storm raged on outside, but Edward and I sat cosily in his car, the rain tapping against the windows as we drove through the streets of Chicago. It was late enough that there wasn't too much traffic and the city lights drifted by as we followed the black water of the river as it curved around, skyscrapers rising up on either side. I didn't last long – my eyes flickered shut before the Civic was out of sight.

When I woke, we were in an underground car park and Edward switching off the headlights.

"Nice apartment," I murmured.

He turned and smiled, "Do you want to wait here? I can be quick."

I shook my head and unclipped my seatbelt, "I want to see where the Masens live."

Edward grabbed his bag and then helped me out with a bow. We walked hand and hand into a white and grey-themed lobby. Edward waved to the tired-looking concierge at the desk as we passed. He smiled back, then smothered a yawn.

"I'll never know what his job really is," Edward admitted as we reached the elevator. The shiny doors opened immediately and we stepped in. The walls were mirrors and white marble. Edward didn't even think as he pressed the button for the penthouse apartment.

"Ugh," I groaned, leaning back against the rail as we moved up. "We should have visited Forks first – I already can't match this."

Edward grinned and rested his hands on my waist, "I'm sure Forks feels like home, though. This is just a place to crash between semesters at _Force."_

"But you grew up here," I pointed out. "Before _Force."_

The elevator pinged and the doors silently slid open. We stepped out, straight into a huge main room. There was a sleek, modern kitchen along one wall, and then a fireplace with plush, low grey couches around it. The dining table was on the right, with a polished glass top and stylish black chairs. But most breath-taking was the huge window which made up the final wall, going from the floor to the ceiling. I couldn't help but let go of Edward's hand and walk to the window, looking out over the glittering skyscrapers of Chicago. "It's beautiful," I murmured, looking all the way across to Grant Park.

I caught Edward smiling in the reflection. "I'll grab my stuff," he said, and went through some sliding double doors on the right, leaving me alone in the main room.

I watched the city for a moment, still bursting with light and life, despite the hour. My mind drifted as I gazed down at a train which was snaking around the high risers. What a day it had been. I felt like I had touched on every emotion under the sun. I had dragged myself through rain and mud. I'd managed to disrupt an entire airport. I had discovered Jacob's scheming and then had plotted my own revenge with Edward finally at my side. And then together, we had finally danced Romeo and Juliet the way they were meant to be danced, and it had been received so amazingly well that it still gave me a shiver of excitement to think of it. And more importantly, I was with Edward. That alone was enough to make me the happiest person in the world.

But now? As I stood here, at the end of the longest day of my life, I just felt perfectly content. Calm. Because, for the moment, I had everything I could ever have possibly wished for. I felt happy and safe and fulfilled and loved. Perfection – _this _was perfection. It wasn't some unattainable thing that we would always be slaving for. It was simple.

Quietly, I turned from the window and went through the double doors, into Edward's bedroom. His suitcase was on the floor, next to a king-sized bed, covered in black satin sheets. He was at his chest of drawers, pulling out t-shirts, his back turned to me.

Tentatively, I reached out and touched his arm. He spun round, dropping his last shirt as he saw me standing there.

"Can we stay?" I asked, looking up at him unreservedly. "I don't want this to end yet."

Edward frowned slightly, and nodded. And then, I rose onto my tired tiptoes and kissed him softly on the lips.

He pulled back, looking at me with a silent, serious question. I willed him to trust me, saying a thousand words without a sound, like we had always done. His green eyes fixed on mine, he gently wrapped his arms around my waist and returned my kiss.

* * *

><p>And T-rated it shall remain!<p>

One final chapter which may or may not include the epilogue will be updated before the weekend's out unless there is an unexpected audition/workshop thingy.

So hopefully it'll be in your inboxes before Sunday night but if not, please don't shoot me!

**And please review - let me know all your thoughts on Leah, Lauren, Edward and Bella and, of course, the thirty eight!**

**Thank you so much for reading - you make writing this the most fulfilling thing I do in a year, though I suppose that seems a little weird.**


End file.
